


WILL

by SerenStone



Series: Rage, Rage Against the Dying of the Light [9]
Category: Destiny (Video Games)
Genre: Adapting Mechanics to Suit My Needs, Cloud - Freeform, Clutch - Freeform, Clutter, Do Not Do As the Warlock Do, F/F, F/M, Gen, Multi, Other, Squall - Freeform, We Stan Ghosts in this House, We Stan Hunters in this House, We Stan Throne Worlds in this House?, We Stan Titans in this House, We Stan Warlocks in this House, Win Count
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-24
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:40:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 21
Words: 47,764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24898573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SerenStone/pseuds/SerenStone
Summary: Due to recent updates to Destiny 2, this has very really now become an Alternate Universe.
Relationships: Ghost/Guardian, Guardian/Guardian
Series: Rage, Rage Against the Dying of the Light [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1743430
Comments: 41
Kudos: 4





	1. Stranger Danger

**Author's Note:**

> Due to recent updates to Destiny 2, this has very really now become an Alternate Universe.

Silla and Sly were stalking Shry through the woods when a man stepped into the clearing behind Shry and spoke to her. “Excuse me, ma’am,” he called, adding, “Are you Ms. O Broin?” when she turned to face him. He was human, red haired, covered in freckles, dark Omega Mechanos robes. His aura was not that of Light.

“I am. And you are?” Shry answered.

“Nisus Blaise, ma’am. I was hoping you could help me with something.”

Silla’s eyes narrowed even as Shry gasped. “Win Count’s been MIA a long time. Are you alright?”

“I’ve been better,” he said, smiling unhappily. “Oryx’s Ascendant Realm decided to close up when he died and I was still inside. Most of the rest of the team is dead. The others were only able to recover recently with a healthy application of orbs of Light. They’re both in a safe place.”

“But you’ve been alive and alone all this time,” Shry said slowly, jumping straight to empathetic. “Shit, I’m sorry.”

“I-” he seemed surprised. “Thank you. I’ve managed.”

“What do you need?” Shry asked and Silla was moving as soon as the man took a step forward. He halted, raising his hands in the universal gesture of surrender the moment he saw Silla with Shadowshot full-drawn. 

“Back away from her. Now,” Silla demanded, hearing Sly step out of the trees behind her. Shry was frowning at her. 

“I meant no offense. Shall I just take a seat?” He gestured to the log behind him. 

“Do that.”

“What are you-” Shry began.

“I know what a Lightbearer who’s touched the Dark feels like,” Silla said, her voice colder than she meant it to be. “And I don’t believe for a second Blaise would appear out of nothing after years and years and come to you first.”

 _Get a hold of Niles. Eris too if possible,_ Silla told Bee.

_On it!_

Shry had turned back to the man. “What are you up to, then?”

“I am Nisus Blaise,” he said carefully. “I only recently learned how to reopen the Ascendant Realm. The Realm itself was originally formed out of and by the Dark. I’m not surprised I don’t feel like a Lightbearer at this point.” His expression was grieved, and he took a moment to breathe carefully. “And I never claimed this was my first stop.”

“And you came here for?” Shry tilted her head.

“You,” he laughed a little. “I could see a few things from the throne world. I saw Xol fall. I know where he went,” the man held Shry’s gaze. “I thought you might want to finish the job.”

Confused, but unwilling to let the stranger have control of the conversation, Silla stepped forward. “Prove you are who you say you are,” she demanded.

“What would you like?” he asked, spreading his arms.

“Bantusk,” she said. The grief on his face deepened. “Tell me the name of Gall’s Ghost.”

“Niles? He likes to swim. Learned the hard way not to swim on Titan. Used to take naps in buckets of water. Great at accents.”

Frowning, Silla let the tension out of her bow. She heard movement behind the man and almost brought the bow back up but recognized the Light. Emma Blake stepped out of the woods behind Nisus. “I told you they wouldn’t believe you,” she told him, smug. He vacated the log for her to sit.

“Why are you here, Blake?” Silla asked slowly. 

“To tell you he is who he says he is. I carted barrels and barrels of orbs of Light into the Realm for him and we dumped them on Win Count’s Ghosts. He’s telling the truth - even about Xol; I’ve spoken with the thing.”

Shry shuddered. “Sorry.”

“Not as bad as it could be once you get used to the constant bullshit,” Emma shrugged. Shry flinched. 

“That’s Emma Blake, Shry,” Silla said, offering nothing else.

Transmat effects began behind the log and Lishan turned to look, gasped, and barreled into Nisus’ back. Eris stood behind her, mouth open with surprise. Nisus stumbled at the sudden weight, turning to look under his arm. “Kid? What-”

“It’s good to have you back, boss. Things have been rough,” Niles said. 

Nisus looked back and forth from Niles to Lishan. Her face was buried in his robes. He was visibly baffled before his expression softened. “Hey, come on, kid. Breathe.”

Silla dropped her Shadowshot entirely. “I owe you an apology,” she started but Nisus waved her off.

“Unnecessary but accepted,” he said, distracted with wrestling Lishan into a more comfortable position. Eris stepped forward to assist and he beamed. “Eris! How are you?”

“Relieved to see you,” she said. “How-”

Nisus recounted the bit about opening the Realm. “Ksenir and Nova may make it yet, but we’re not sure. The rest…” his jaw worked. Lishan began to sob against his shoulder.

“Eris?” Shry asked quietly. 

“You were correct,” the woman sighed, moving to Shry’s side. “I wish I had seen it sooner. Some element of the Hive’s Darkness has had a hold on Lishan since she left the Moon or perhaps earlier. I have been able to lift some of the weight upon her but I am afraid there is more that I have been unable to affect.”

Nisus’ head came up slowly, thunderous. “What?” he demanded. 

“Lishan’s had to deal with some form of the Hive’s contagion,” Silla said and Lishan full-body-winced into Nisus. Working not to react, Silla continued, “We didn’t know that was what was happening but our other Warlock said she’d had less and less Light as time went on.”

Lishan seemed to be trying to physically get further away from Silla while still clinging to Nisus. Sly pulled Silla a step back and got an arm around her shoulders. Nisus took Lishan’s face in his hands and lifted until he could see her. She wouldn’t look at him. Silla watched his expression go from incredulous to enraged to determined.

“Miss Blake, if you don’t mind.” His voice was quiet but it drew the attention of everyone present. One arm went around Lishan’s shoulders and held her against him while the other reached toward Emma. Emma pulled a mote of Dark from somewhere and tossed it to him. He caught it and took a deep breath. “Kid, I need you to take a deep breath or seven. Niles, grab hold of the Traveler and don’t let go.” Nisus absorbed the mote of Dark as if it were an orb of Light. The energy in the clearing shifted, the air went still, and Silla’s hands drifted toward her knives. Eris stiffened even as Lishan gasped, her hands scrambling for purchase on Nisus’ robes. “Hang on, kid,” he said. His free hand opened and drew slowly closed as if taking hold of something. He pulled and Lishan choked on air. 

Niles darted past her to hide and Silla stiffened, pushing Sly back as she manifested Light. “Wine Night on Sly,” she barked. “Go.” Sly waited to be sure he had Isaac and tore out of the clearing. Shry put her shoulder against Silla’s and offered her own Light, calling for Eris to explain.

“He’s drawing the Darkness from her and into himself,” the woman said faintly, her three eyes fixed on Nisus.

“He knows what he’s doing,” Emma volunteered, perfectly calm. “He did this for both Ksenir and Nova’s Ghosts and then for themselves.”

Silla had almost relaxed when a sound that was almost Nisus’ name came from Lishan’s mouth and Silla nearly locked up. “I know, kid,” Nisus soothed. “I know. I’m almost done. I’m sorry it hurts.” His voice dropped to a growl. “But I’m not going to let that bastard keep you. I can’t.” After a few seconds more she went limp in his grasp and he shifted to account for her weight, breathing hard. “Shit,” he breathed, and when Silla lifted Lishan off of him he staggered. 

Silla carried Lishan to Eris, gently laying her on the ground before turning to keep her eyes on Nisus. When Nisus made it back to the log and slumped against it, Emma calmly formed an orb of Light in one hand and offered it to him. He took it with a murmured thanks and held it between his hands, resting his forehead against it without absorbing it.

“She is much improved,” Eris noted, a wondering note in her voice. 

Shry took a deep breath and called Solar to her hands, plunging a Dawnblade into the ground near Lishan. Eris nodded approvingly. Shry walked to Nisus and held out a hand. “Come on, then,” she said when he looked up. “You look like you could use some time in a Well.”

“Oh please,” the words spilled out of him and he took her hand, letting her tote him into the Well. He collapsed almost immediately, still clutching the orb. Air hissed from his mouth, teeth chattering as he trembled. A Ghost materialized at his side and darted to the Dawnblade itself. Some of the caution bled from Silla’s posture as she watched. 

“Oryx’s throne world is made entirely of the Dark,” Emma noted, toying with another orb of Light. “They’ve both been without Light for years.” Eris simply nodded. Shry crouched within the Well of Radiance and poured more Light into it. Emma stood and strolled casually toward the Well and started gently tossing orbs of Light to Shry. “I’ve dumped Light on them both a few times now but they get like this every time he pulls the Dark out of something.”

Silla took in the fullness of Emma’s confidence and Nisus’ indisposure. “Lishan?”

“It may take her some time to wake,” Eris said. “I believe that was excruciating.”

“He absorbed Dark to do that,” Silla said slowly.

“He can do it without,” Emma offered. “He says taking a mote is easier on Edgar,” she nodded at the Ghost nuzzling the Dawnblade.

Silla crouched to be level with Edgar. “How does this affect you?”

“Can’t pick him up when he’s like this,” Edgar said, his voice dreamy. “Have to wait for the Dark to leech out. If he manipulates the Dark without it touching him first it’s like I’m on fire a little bit. With the Dark touching him first it’s like… he’s further away even though he’s right there. But it was either learn to do stuff with the Dark or read the Tablets of Ruin again.” Silla started. “There was so little to do in there that didn’t involve watching the others decay,” he said, mournful. “But the Light,” Edgar sighed happily. 

“I’m going to get my head on straight,” Silla said, standing and pacing into the trees. One half-frantic call with Martellus later, Silla returned to the clearing. She gripped Shry’s shoulder as she slipped past her to scoop up Lishan.

“What’s your plan?” Shry asked, still pouring Light into the Dawnblade.

“Get her and the Ghosts somewhere safe before he’s functional again,” Silla called, already leaving.

“Have fun,” Emma called from behind her. Silla heard Eris protest but kept moving.


	2. Bitter Tastes

“He slew Oryx, why-” Eris shook her head.

“Because he’s been without Light all this time,” Shry shrugged. “If he read the Tablets of Ruin, he may have used the information within. Given that he can use the Darkness, she’s being as careful as she can.”

“Because she’s smart,” Emma summarized simply.

“Aren’t you with him?”

“Sure. Doesn’t mean I don’t know what this looks like,” Emma shrugged. 

“He is a good man,” Eris insisted.

“Wouldn’t say that,” Emma muttered. “Look, yeah. He did something incredible. But he’s been in a box with only the dead and the Deep to talk to. It’s not safe to assume he’s trustworthy anymore.”

Eris frowned, but Shry touched her hand. “You know how worried Silla’s been over Lishan. Let her do what she needs to do.”

It was nearly a half hour later before Nisus stirred again. His head came up to look at Eris. “The kid?”

“Improved, greatly,” Eris repeated herself. 

“Cool,” he muttered and dropped his head again. “Whose Well is this again?”

“Mine,” said Shry, crouching at his side.

“This is the single most burny Well I have ever met. And I mean that as a compliment.”

“Thanks?” she offered, bemused. “We’ve been putting Light into it non stop. Edgar’s a bit high, I think.”

“Good for him,” the man groaned as he sat up. “I forgot how bright things are on Earth,” he said quietly as he looked around.

“That doesn’t go away,” said Eris.

“Damn,” he muttered. Emma moved into his view and he looked up. “Sorry I fucked up your schedule.”

“It said “Barring Incidents” at the top,” Emma shrugged. 

Nisus laughed. “I didn’t expect to be the incident,” he grinned at her.

“I did,” she said flatly.

“Knew you were the smartest person I’ve met,” Nisus said agreeably. “Now where the hell is Lishan?” his voice deepened into something threatening.

“With her fireteam, I assume,” Shry shrugged. “Silla said she was taking Lishan and the Ghosts some place safe.”

Nisus blinked slowly. “The Ghosts?”

“A Ghost relies on the Light, fully. You seem to be a full blown wielder of the Darkness. She thought it wise to get them clear of the blast radius,” Shry explained. 

A long silence followed until Emma chuckled. “You didn’t take me seriously when I called her smart, did you?”

“I didn’t really process the fact that it was you calling someone smart,” he said slowly. “The kid’s safe?”

“As safe as Silla can make her, and Silla takes her team very seriously," Shry said.

“Right. I suppose we might could continue our conversation, then?”

“We could,” Shry agreed slowly. “You said you know where Xol is?” Eris stiffened. 

“Yeah. And I may have done what I could to make sure he couldn’t leave there.”

“He is not in his own Ascendant Realm?” Eris sounded disbelieving. 

“Not yet,” Emma settled next to Nisus. 

“He started messing about with the Taken,” Nisus said as if that explained anything. “He’s a bit tied down for the time being,” he grinned mirthlessly. “But I want to be sure that you are there when he’s destroyed,” he continued, gesturing at Shry. “Don’t want any bullshit _aiat_ -rules about slayers needing to be the same or some dumb thing like that keeping him from really kicking the bucket.”

“You have a timeline for this?”

“We have a timeline for our end of things. You in the middle of something?”

Shry looked at him for a moment, considering her words. “In the middle of forming a fireteam and relearning how fighting works,” she said finally.

“Relearning how fighting works?” he said, baffled. “Why do you need time for forming a fireteam?”

“Because I’ve never had one before,” she said flatly.

He stared at her blankly. “What?”

“I’ve never had a fireteam.”

“You mean you fought Xol alone on purpose?”

“I answered a distress call,” Shry sighed. “Ana Bray wanted help killing Hive to protect a Warmind and Zavala showed up and decided he was in charge.”

“So it was Zavala who thought Xol wanted a piece of the Traveler for a snack,” Nisus translated. Shry nodded. “Bray was playing house with her Warmind,” he mused. “Where was Zavala when you fought Xol?”

“Watching Ana to be sure she didn’t do something stupid like be kind to an AI,” Shry sighed. “I don’t even know.”

“He used you as bait,” Nisus surged forward, frowning fiercely. “Didn’t he?” Shry held his gaze without answering. “Miss Blake, I need you to walk away for a moment. Or somehow stop your ears.”

“Why?” Emma asked, bored.

“Because I have a need to curse and I would prefer to maintain your good opinion.”

“Presumptive,” she muttered. “I may not have a good opinion of you. Do you not want their good opinions?”

“Eris can out-curse me without warning and has done so on a number of occasions,” Nisus shrugged. “I had thought that perhaps Miss O Broin would enjoy hearing someone else get upset for her sake.”

“Presumptive,” Shry agreed with Emma. “But I appreciate it.”

“Well, that’s something,” he decided. “How long have you been up, then?”

“Bit over twelve years,” Shry answered. 

He choked on air. “And no fireteam?”

“I refused to hold myself back so others could keep up,” Shry shrugged. “Apparently that’s an unwillingness to compromise.”

“Mhm,” Emma nodded. “I’m not in the Vanguard, but I’ve seen that kind of thing.”

“Eris,” Nisus said faintly. “What happened?”

“This started long before you left,” Eris chided him. “You used to argue with Gordon about it.”

Nisus’ expression went bleak in an instant. “Do you know where he is?”

“No,” she shook her head. “I would say he went into hiding but I do not think he could hide this well.”

He closed his eyes and clenched his jaw. “What do you need to do to be ready for your fireteam?” he eventually asked, returning to task.

“Relearn support abilities, get used to communicating in combat, build Arc shields for my teammates,” she sighed, settling in. “Figure out how to be comfortable with Solar again.”

All three of them frowned at her. “This Well is excellent,” Nisus said again. “What-”

“Did you see anything about the Cabal from in there?” Shry asked, suddenly losing patience.

“No?” He glanced at Emma who was watching Shry carefully. “Why?”

“They came for the Traveler,” Shry said shortly. “Managed to sever every Guardian and Ghosts’ connection to the Light.” His eyes blew wide. “They were using a star-killer on our sun. My Ghost and I were the only ones who pursued a solution for our Light. We were the only ones with a chance at surviving. So we went to the star-killer. I walked across the exterior of a ship in orbit of the sun. I know what Solar Fire really feels like. I have burned alive and kept walking. If I never wield Solar again, I would be thrilled,” she took several deep breaths and realized she’d been talking far faster than normal. Realized she’d told them something she’d never said aloud before. Eris took Shry’s hands and drew her from the Well, gently pushing her to sit on a stone. Her hands and the stone were deliciously cool. Shry was both amazed and relieved at the difference being out of the Well made. “No one ever comes for me who isn’t after the bitch of the Red War,” Shry said flatly, looking back to Nisus. “And you mean to tell me that you didn’t even know?”

“We had no Light,” Edgar said quietly. “I couldn’t sense the Traveler at all.”

“How would they even-” Nisus was pale, staring into the middle distance, eyes unfocused as he muttered to himself. 

“The Vanguard only recently began study of the contraption that held the Traveler,” Emma noted. 

“And this happened when?”

“About four years ago,” Emma said. 

Nisus dropped his head in his hands. “And you had no fireteam.”

“And no one else tried our method of retrieving our Light.”

A sound like a growl came from the back of Nisus’ throat before he laughed, bleak. “Every other fireteam that had done something magnificent in recent history had all died or vanished. And none of the old guard was willing to show enough weakness to help you. Afraid of dying? Who heard of a Guardian afraid of dying? We do it almost every day, what’s one more?” He stood and began pacing within the Well. “Where was the Speaker in all this?” he asked, cynical. 

“Prisoner of the Cabal, and now dead,” said Shry.

“So, the Vanguard, what, went to pieces without him or something?”

“Scattered to the winds,” she said, flatly. “Cayde at least was trying to figure out how to get a piece of a Vex teleporter to work so he could get close enough to assassinate their leader.”

“Zavala?” 

“Went to Titan.”

“Sloane was stationed on Titan, not the worst plan,” Nisus mused. “But he didn’t listen to her.”

“No.”

“Ikora?”

“Io. Afraid of dying.”

Nisus lifted his head and stared at the sky. “Well. Okay, Miss Blake. No attempt at Vanguard allegiance.”

Eris shifted minutely as Emma nodded. “I know they mean a lot to you. I’m sorry.”

He jerked his chin as if to nod without looking away from the sky. “Miss O Broin?”

“Call me Shry. No “miss” necessary,” she said, tired of it.

Nisus hesitated briefly. “Shry then,” he said. “So long as there is life left to me, you will not face Xol alone.”

Something in Shry stilled and relaxed for the first time in months. “Thank you,” she managed. 

“I can improve his containment. Ms. Blake might even assist,” he said thoughtfully. “I’ll give you as much time to learn your fireteam as I can.”

“Why are you doing this?” Shry asked. 

“Because hell has stared back at me too, Shry, but I never faced it alone.”

“Didn’t you?” she challenged gently. “You were alone in there with Edgar and the Tablets of Ruin. Even I would have considered using them.”

“I suppose I did,” he said slowly. “I suppose I did.”

“And?” Silla’s voice came from the edge of the clearing.

Nisus looked across at the Hunter and smiled faintly. “It answered my questions. Hard to believe, but the Darkness itself craves being known.”

“That’s not hard to believe at all,” Silla countered, striding to stand by Shry. “If it can be understood then it is no longer so alien as to register as meaningless to kill. If it can be understood, then some will hesitate to pull the trigger. If they hesitate, it wins.”

“Smart,” he nodded at Emma. “Got it in one.”

“What did you learn?” Eris interrupted.

“I saw the future it craves. I saw how it wanted me to look in that future. What it would offer me,” he smiled faintly. “I didn’t give it the chance. Told it I intended to take more from it than it had taken from me and it laughed and loved me. I shattered the connection at that point.”

Shry felt her skin crawl. “That sounds awful.”

“It was. But it was also very educational. That vision is how I learned to manipulate the Dark like I do. I can still use the Light, but switching back and forth is difficult,” he rubbed his hands on his robes. “It’s like I’ve become amphibious but going back and forth feels like drowning.”

Drowning resonated in Shry’s mind and she swallowed. 

“Xol?” Silla asked. 

“He’s going to improve containment on Xol while I figure out how to work in a fireteam,” Shry explained. 

Silla watched Shry and nodded, slowly. “I can help,” she said. 

“Planning on it,” Shry agreed. “Was considering asking you to teach Sly how to run.”

“He won’t,” Silla sighed. “I’ll handle it with K.”

Shry nodded slowly. She was glad there was no question if Shry would run. Arthil had nearly had to drag her out of the City himself when they found each other after Ghaul hit the Traveler. “You the one who suggested they study the cage?” she asked. 

“Had MU do it,” Silla shrugged. “Ikora is nice enough to me but I don’t think she’s ever taken me seriously.”

“She thinks she’s old,” Shry sighed.

Nisus choked and started laughing. “Who let her get away with that? Ah. Surely Cayde-”

“Is dead,” Silla said, harsh.

“Wh-” Nisus rocked back on his heels, visibly startled and then horrified. “No.”

“For longer than I have been alive,” Silla barreled on. “Hunters have been without a Vanguard.”

“This Red War?” he asked, subdued.

“No,” Shry sighed. “It’s a long story but Sundance was destroyed and he was killed.”

Nisus looked to Eris but she was silent and still as stone. “Well. That’s the Vanguard done,” he said slowly. “Speaker they could have survived but not him and Cayde both.”

“Where is Xol and how many people can you get through to that place to kill him?” Silla asked, pushing the discussion back on track.

Nisus shrugged. “Not sure how to explain where he is now. When it comes time to fight him, I’ll drag him out of there and he’ll run. We’ll let him because we’ll be following him. He won’t stop till he’s in his place of power. We’ll fight him there.”

“Shry?” Silla asked. 

“Mm?”

Silla crouched next to the older woman and touched her knee, peering up into her face. “I can help, if you want it. And I can bring others.”

Shry rested a hand on Silla’s shoulder. “Thank you. I don’t know enough yet.”

Silla nodded once and turned as Nisus let his gaze rest on her. “Where’s my kid?” he asked, pleasantly enough.

“Safe, and with the best healers I know,” she said, rising to face him. “That’s all you’re getting. She’s not yours.”

He smiled, but the expression was not pleasant. “She is in every way that matters. Anything happens to her, I’ll hold you accountable.”

For the first time, Shry wondered what Martellus was teaching Silla. She stood, limbs loose and graceful, her chin lifted, expression pleasant but meaningless, eyes bright and focused. “I’d be disappointed if you didn’t,” she said. “Until she’s well enough to choose for herself, you won’t see her until I am convinced you are trustworthy.”

Eris stirred, uneasy. “You enjoy taking what’s theirs from other people?” he asked, softly. 

Silla’s lips twisted into a half smile that looked like a threat. “People are not to be owned, not children, not apprentices. One can be responsible to or for another person but never own them. I’m responsible to Lishan as her fireteam leader. Until I hear her say that your authority supersedes my responsibility to her, I will keep her as far from the Dark as I am able.”

Nisus’ hands closed and opened several times. “Can we move on, please?” Emma asked, tone bored. “The girl is safe. What we’re doing isn’t. We’re wasting time.”

Nisus’ gaze lifted above Silla’s head as his jaw worked. “Very well,” he grit out. “What dance will you ask of me next, Ms. Blake?”

The woman smiled, amused. “How do you feel about the pavane?”

“I can improvise,” he sighed. “You never play to my strengths, Miss Blake.”

“There will be time for that later, once you’re humble.”

“You wound me,” he said, stepping back to face her.

“Not yet I haven’t,” she said. 

“I’ll be in contact, Blake,” Silla said, interrupting. 

“Of course,” she smiled. “If I’m in the Ascendant Realm, I will not be able to answer immediately.”

“Convenient,” Silla noted.

“Not at all,” Emma tossed her hair over her shoulder as she stood. “Some of my associates are very particular about response times.”

“Not covering for you this time,” Silla said immediately. “I’ve got enough on my plate without handing out distractions.”

“No matter,” said Emma. “I’ll handle him when he makes himself a problem.”

“Ms. Blake,” Nisus said, taking on a scandalized posture. “You have only to ask.”

The flat look Emma shot him over her shoulder expressed her thoughts on that clearly. “Mr. Blaise, you seem to be idling under the delusion that you are the only problematic member of the male species in my life. I see you are in need of further humbling.” Nisus laughed, apparently delighted. 

“I must see Oryx’ realm,” Eris said, finally.

“If I take you with me, will you care for Keil and Nova?” He turned serious in an instant. 

“If I can,” she said. 

“Thank you,” he said, posture sagging. He turned back to Shry. “Shry, it is a pleasure and an honor to have made your acquaintance. Already I look forward to our next meeting.” He turned to Silla. “You see to your charge, Ms. Faer.”

If him knowing her name shook her, she didn’t show it. “Hurry up on the humbling, Blake. He’s not fit for public consumption.”

“I said humble. I never said anything about public consumption,” Emma sighed. “I’m a miracle worker, I know, but some things are beyond miracles.”

“Then get better,” Silla said bluntly. “We don’t have time to wait on miracles.”

“Don’t we?” Nisus asked, curious. 

Silla’s eyes tracked back to him. “You’re a one of a kind opportunity, Blaise, but you have to live long enough to be useful for that to mean anything. You run your mouth too much with the wrong people, put too many people at risk, and you’re no longer worth the effort it takes to protect you.”

“You think I want protection?”

“I think you need it. Primarily from yourself.” His head jerked back in surprise even as Edgar turned to examine Silla more closely. 

“Can you stop posturing for five seconds so we can leave?” Emma sighed. “I’m bored.”

Nisus’ jaw clenched for a moment but he forced himself to relax and offered his arm to Eris who stared at him in confusion. “Of course,” he said quietly. “Shall we?” Eris, Emma, Edgar and Nisus vanished in a cloud of transmat sparks. 

Silla held her posture for several beats before relaxing. “You okay?” she asked, turning to Shry.

“Where are Slàine, Olly, and Isaac?”

“On the way to Mars, I expect.”

Shry took a deep breath. “Okay. I think I’m okay. You?”

“Worried,” Silla said immediately. “This isn’t good. It’s an opportunity and one I think we should take. But it’s very dangerous.”

Shry nodded. “Lishan?”

“Sly took her to Martellus and MU. She’ll be safe until she can get up. Likely furious with me, again. But safe. What’s all this about Xol?”

Shry blinked at her. “Well shit. You- I thought Ana would have told you.”

“Shry.”

“Xol’s one of the worm gods of the Hive. Supposedly the least. He was on Mars. I fought and killed him, I thought. I didn’t know enough about the Hive then to know that I needed to kill him in the Ascendent Plane for it to be permanent.”

“You-” Silla’s eyes were wide.

“Yeah, I know. Stupid.”

“You killed a Hive god?”

“Improperly, yes.”

“And Nisus said you had to do it alone?”

Shry looked up. “You weren’t here for that part.” 

Silla held up a small device. “Left this on your back when I left. Sorry.”

Shry blinked rapidly. “I had no idea.”

“Didn’t want to leave you with no Ghost and no back up any more than I had to.”

Shry slowly smiled. “Appreciate it.”

“You, Sly, and Katya are all going to learn how to run,” Silla said, fierce. “All of you.”

“Okay. Can’t promise to use it as intended.”

“I know,” Silla sighed. “But it could get you out of the Ascendent Realm alive.”

“I’m not sure about taking your fireteam into-”

“I didn’t mean them,” Silla said, meeting Shry’s eyes.

Shry stilled, considering. “Oh.”

Silla nodded, and held out a hand for Shry. “Let’s get Katya and Ardath and get you to Isaac.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The recent updates to Destiny 2 have not only gone in a very different direction from my own, they have also bothered me for a number of reasons. I will admit to struggling to generate creative energy for this project since the news regarding the season of the Worthy. Admittedly, I adored the content surrounding Rasputin but as the season of Arrivals began it seemed to invalidate or make irrelevant all of our efforts with Rasputin.
> 
> I have a bit more written and I intend to release that in the coming weeks after careful proofreading. I can't currently make any promises regarding whether or not I will complete this project.
> 
> As I have a plan for at least an in-setting year's worth of content, once the fullness of my work thus far is published here, I may write up the rest of the project in a more summary-styled manner with occasional breaks into full prose for potent scenes.
> 
> In the meantime, thank you so much for reading. Ad astra.


	3. First Time's Free

Slàine sprinted away from Silla, grinning like a loon and leading her on a merry chase around the clearing just outside of Failsafe’s core. Beside the Core, Olly, Bee, and Astrophel were chatting happily while Katya watched the Chase. Isaac was instigating arguments between Ardath and Failsafe while they discussed schematics for something. Shry had wandered off a bit ago and something pulled his attention to her absence as he slid to a stop in front of Isaac.

“Where’s Shry?” he asked. “Something’s wrong.” Isaac vanished in a shower of transmat sparks and Slàine growled to himself, already sprinting in the direction his instincts pointed. He skidded around a rock and froze. “Isaac, get behind me.” Shry’s expression and posture were something he’d never seen before and he didn’t believe for a minute that she was in charge of herself. He felt Silla catch up with them. “What’s got her?”

“Thus far, it has only ever been some version of herself when she’s been like this,” Isaac’s voice was nearly emotionless. “Ardath could explain it better.”

Shry was nearing Slàine now. “Let me go,” she insisted in a voice that chilled him to the bone. That was not his sister. 

“No one’s holding onto you,” Slàine said.

“I am withholding her Light,” Isaac explained as Slàine took a step away from her. “She typically attacks everything alive when this happens.”

“What the sweet fuck?” Slàine breathed. “What do we do?”

“I took her control of her body last time too,” Isaac confessed.

“Shit,” he turned and sprinted away. “Ardath,” he called. “Shry’s not in right now; what do I do?”

Katya rose, an auto rifle already in her hands, and Ardath lurched to his feet. “Shit,” he said. “Isaac?”

“I took her Light. I have not pinned her,” Isaac said. 

Bee manifested by Ardath’s shoulder. “She’s armed herself with Fallen weaponry. Silla has disarmed her several times now.” He’d forgotten to keep track of Silla. Eyes wide, Slàine bolted back toward Shry. He had only just plucked a wire rifle from her hands when her body seemed to lock up and her eyes darted to Isaac, the rage on her face something he hoped never to see again. 

“ _Fuuuuck_ ,” Slàine breathed, staring at Shry. “No, no. I don’t think that’s her, Isaac. She fucking adores you.” He tossed the rifle to the side and scooped Shry up with the ease of long practice and carried her back to the others, Silla at his back. “So,” Slàine said, gently lowering Shry to a chair. “Who wants to explain this to me?” Ardath took a deep breath and explained, gently collecting Isaac in his hands and holding him. Slàine never once looked away from Shry throughout. “Of all the luck,” he sighed, taking her hand. “You finally get rid of all those diseases but every one of your mental disorders get worse.”

“Um.” Nisus stood at the edge of the gathering. Silla’s knives were in her hands and she snarled, stalking toward him. His hands were already in the air. “I tried to call ahead,” he said quietly. “All attempts at broadcast were interrupted.”

“Ah,” Failsafe’s frame said.

“You continue to have suspicious timing,” Silla said. 

Nisus smiled at her, all teeth. “Where’s my kid?”

“Safe,” Silla said. “Why are you here?”

“Ms. Blake informed me that Shry had questions for me,” he said. “Speaking of, what-”

“Don’t,” Silla growled. 

Nisus’ head tilted to the side. “I fear you don’t understand, Miss Faer. I _need_ her: alive, functional, ready to kill overgrown worms. I would help if you would give me the chance.”

“Silla,” Slàine kept his voice quiet. “Don’t escalate this, please.” Silla’s knives disappeared and she stepped away, vanishing. Knowing she was either still watching or had left a listening device, Slàine stood, turning so he was between Nisus and Shry. “What makes you think you can help?”

“I have unusual skills,” Nisus said, tucking his hands into pockets in his robe. “And if it’s Hive-based I can probably fix it.”

“Is it?” Slàine asked.

Nisus leaned slightly to the side and eyed Shry. Slowly confusion bled into his posture. “No, no it’s not. Matter of fact, I sense nothing on her.”

Slàine nodded once. “Thank you for that; it’s good to have confirmation. Ardath, Isaac, take her inside, please. Keep her hydrated.” Ardath carefully lifted Shry and they headed inside.

Nisus took a breath. “I’m afraid you have the advantage of me, Mister?”

Slàine pulled off his helmet and enjoyed the shock on Blaise’s face. “O Broin. Name’s Slàine,” he said, tossing his helmet over his shoulder for Olly to catch. “I understand you want my sister to kill a god for you.”

“Yes,” he said, dazed. “Forgive me, I had no idea Shry had a sibling.”

“Mm,” Slàine hummed, keeping his face pleasant. “Neither did she, what with the whole memory kerfuffle. Why don’t you have a seat? Have you met Katya-7?”

“I’ve not. It’s a pleasure, ma’am,” Nisus said, beginning to move and hesitating. “Sorry, just- Will I be stabbed if I shake your hand?”

Katya shrugged eloquently. “Not a question I can answer. I usually just take the risk,” she said, extending her hand to shake his. 

“Ah, I suppose it is impossible to know,” he agreed, shaking Katya’s hand and then Slàine’s. “And you?” he asked, turning toward the frame.

“I am the Exodus Black’s Failsafe. You may call me Failsafe,” she said primly.

“Charmed, I’m sure,” he said, apparently delighted. 

“Katya and I are the other members of the fireteam Shry mentioned,” Slàine said, settling himself in Shry’s chair. “We have some questions.”

“Oh, of course,” Nisus brightened. “How can I help?”

“According to everything Shry has on the Hive, which is quite a lot actually, there is no such thing as a same-slayer requirement,” Slàine explained. “Which leaves me particularly curious why you want her help.”

Finally Nisus lowered himself into a chair. “I can see how that would be a concern. Perhaps I can explain by providing some context, if I may.” At Slàine’s nod, Nisus continued. “From within the walls of Oryx’ Ascendent realm, I was only sometimes able to see beyond the boundaries of the realm. Oryx’ throne allowed for some viewing of things related to the Hive. I was able to utilize this capacity to watch her face Xol on Mars. I fear I may ramble a bit, but watching Xol fall to her hand was,” he paused. “Inspiring. I do not exaggerate when I call it life altering. I- It was the first time I’d felt hope since the realm closed. To know the worms can be slain- She’s been a paragon to me ever since. I watched Xol flee and kept track of him. 

“The Hive have taken-” he breathed carefully. “So much from me. If I can be even a small part of taking a god from them, I would count myself the luckiest man alive. They damn near took my kid and Shry is apparently a large part of the reason they didn’t succeed. I had assumed she would want to finish the job with Xol personally. I may very well be incorrect there and I will certainly proceed on my own if that is the case.”

Slàine glanced at Katya where she stood to one side, quirking an eyebrow. She nodded, silent. “Our fireteam has been preparing for another fight with Xol for months now,” Slàine said. “Xol revealed himself to Shry in a vision and as she had learned more about the Hive between killing him and the vision, she knew that it meant that he was still kicking about. Eris couldn’t track him, so we’ve stood down from that hunt. We’re willing to take it up again, provided you’re going to actually get us out of whatever his Ascendent Realm equivalent is and back to the prime material.”

“Of course,” Nisus said immediately. “Absolutely.”

After a moment of observing the other man, Slàine nodded. “Good.”

“Would you tell me more about this vision?” Nisus' posture was such that Slàine knew he would accept a refusal, and that was enough for him.

“Thanatonautic style start. He talks to her a bit. Essentially invites her to serve him or offers to serve her, it wasn’t fully clear. She tells him to fuck off. He makes sad faces and tells her to drown in the deep, which she did.” Nisus paled visibly. He said something in a language Slàine didn’t recognize but it sounded like a swear or five. “Eris cleared out some Hivey cobwebs or something from her head but that’s been that, as far as I know.”

“And her current state is unrelated?”

“Yeah,” Slàine granted him. “I’m pretty confident I understand what’s going on there. It’ll take some work, but it’s recoverable.” Katya eyed him sidelong but didn’t comment.

Nisus relaxed slightly. “I’m glad to hear it.” He hesitated. “Can I be helpful?”

Slàine tilted his head at the man, layers of ideas in mind. “Probably. How do you want to be?”

“Hope is what she gave me; the knowledge that what I wanted was possible,” he said after a moment’s consideration. “I want to help her have hope.”

Slàine sat forward, inclining his head with a faint smile. “Good answer. Any unusual or rare resources that might be useful in shipbuilding?”

Nisus’ gaze sharpened. “What kind of ship?”

“Heavy cruiser. Full autonomy and AI integration.”

“So you’re looking at over ten billion in glimmer,” Nisus mused.

“Probably closer to twenty,” Slàine shrugged. “Labor, you know. Plus fittings.”

“I can get you thirty,” Nisus said, casual.

Slàine worked to only blink slowly. “Thirty what?”

“Thirty billion glimmer.”

“Investments paying off exponentially?” Slàine teased.

“Some of them, yes, thank you for asking. Additionally, I can effectively generate matter within the Ascendent realm. Glimmer is simple. It’ll take me at least a week. More unusual substances would require a greater time commitment, but I could more than likely do it.”

“Matter continues to exist outside the realm?” Katya asked.

“Ah, clever to check. Yes, it does.”

Slàine leaned back in his chair. “And you’d just hand over thirty billion glimmer with no strings attached?” He kept Nisus’ attention on him as Katya glanced at Failsafe’s frame.

“Yes,” Nisus said. “I can make as much as I want at any time. Furthermore, I understand the desire for full independence. I don’t mind giving glimmer away. It’s not even two weeks worth of work.”

Slàine watched him, a faint smile playing about his lips. “I’m afraid I can’t avoid the trope anymore. Katya, Failsafe, give us a bit?” As he’d already spoken with Katya about this, they headed inside the core. Slàine rested his elbows on his knees and looked at Nisus. “First you want her help in particular, say you _need_ her, give her a shot at finishing what she started, call her your paragon. Now you’re offering to just up and give her thirty billion glimmer. What, exactly, are your intentions toward my sister?”

Nisus gaped at him for a brief moment before he burst out laughing. “I’m so sorry. I mean no offense,” he said when he could breathe again. “I assure you I haven’t been thinking in those terms. She’s certainly achieved incredible things with remarkably few resources but I don’t know her nearly well enough to be attracted to her or not.”

Slàine nodded amiably. “I thought as much. But the trope gag allowed me to get them to take a walk for a bit so I’d like to ask some more questions, if that’s alright.”

“Please do,” Nisus said, intrigued.

“You have a long game planned. You’re pulling strings to get results some years down the line. What are you aimed at?”

“The complete eradication of the Hive. Genocide, if I can,” Nisus explained, calm for the kind of words he used.

Slàine nodded slowly. “I suppose you’ve seen the limits of both their best and worst.”

“You could say that,” Nisus mused. “I want full revenge. They’ve taken my family from me twice now, nearly took my kid. I’m going to destroy them from the top down.”

“And you’ve decided to involve my sister.”

“Yes,” Nisus said. “I suppose you’d prefer I be blunt.”

“Very much.”

“I hope that after Xol is dead and I tell her that I know where the other giant worms are, she will want to help.”

Slàine considered. “I imagine she will. From what I understand, Xol and Nokris were her first real exposure to the Hive in a meaningful way. She’d fought Hive before, of course, but nothing like them. She’s done truly astounding amounts of research and study into them since. Come up with observations and theories that surprised Eris. Wrote a number of the most up to date texts the Vanguard has on the Hive.”

Nisus’s eyes were large. “Incredible.”

“You sure it’s not a crush?”

“For the moment it is not. I make no claims toward what the future holds,” he grinned, teasing.

Slàine didn’t try to stop his own grin. “How much more time can you give us?”

“Plenty,” he said, keeping up with the shift. “Ms. Blake improved my bindings immensely.”

“Back to the Hive, then. You’re convinced there’s nothing in them worth preserving?”

“I am. I know something of the nature of their creation, now. These god-worms have a sort of direct line to the Darkness. Oryx took the secret of that invocation from them and became the Taken King as a result of the favor of the Dark.”

“And what have you become?” Slàine asked.

“Exhausted, mostly,” Nisus admitted. “I saw what the Darkness wants from reality and what it would have had from me. I accepted nothing from it directly at least. But I did learn from what it showed me.”

“So something of the Darkness is worth utter destruction simply because it’s of the Darkness?” Slàine asked, going back.

“Yes. And before you ask, I do include myself in that assessment at the moment. I am fully capable of never using the Dark again, only ever the Light. I would love to be in a position where I thought such a commitment would be safe. Edgar and I agreed a very long time ago that if we had to die to protect humanity or what’s left of it then we would do so in such a way as to cause a very large problem for the enemies of humanity. This is our way to do that at the moment.”

“A trap or a sacrifice to be lauded?”

“I wish I knew. Maybe both. Maybe neither.”

Slàine settled back in his chair. In nearly any other setting, he’d already be working to be friends with this man. They saw reality in very similar ways, and were willing to make the same sorts of sacrifices. “For what it’s worth,” he said quietly. “I hope you succeed. And I’ll remember.”

Nisus gasped silently, eyes blowing wide and wild before he dropped his head in his hands. “Thank you,” he choked out. “I…” It took some time for him to continue. “I miss my team,” he confessed. “Maybe Gordon and Caris are alive somewhere, but they’re not answering my calls. Ksenir and Nova are recovering but even when they wake they- for them it was just a moment ago that we fought Oryx.”

“They haven’t changed and you have,” Slàine sighed. 

The man nodded. “And my kid,” he shook. “I left her behind when we went to the Dreadnaught to protect her but she would have been safer with me after all. I don’t know how to apologize for that.”

“You tell her what you just told me,” Slàine said gently. “You say the things you never said before because surely she knew what she meant, how you felt, that you couldn’t stop thinking about while you were trapped. You tell her. And you let her decide.”

Nisus shuddered. “Where were all these smart Guardians when Crota was acting up?” 

A deflection. “Not a Guardian. Not going to be. Not after what the Vanguard did to Shry.”

Sniffing, Nisus rubbed his hands together as if to warm them. “Fair. Any clue why Ms. Faer hates me so much?”

“Not really,” Sly admitted, aware of Silla’s nearness. “She’s seen a lot in a very short time. Someone close to her suffered greatly because of the Darkness. There are those new folks calling themselves the Shadows of Yor.” Nisus’ eyes widened in horror. “Ms. Gall is not the only person she loves that she has watched suffer due to the Dark. A warlock who wields the Dark and still has a Ghost that can rez him? In her mind Silla must be prepared for the worst in order to be an adequate leader to her fireteam.”

The Warlock in question took several slow breaths. “I’m her worst nightmare.”

“Hardly,” Slàine smiled faintly. “She’s far more creative than that.”

Nisus snorted and shook himself. “She loves her?” he asked quietly.

“Absolutely. Gall’s difficulties have been weighing on her for some time now. She _let_ Gall set her on fire on purpose just to have a chance to get close enough to try and talk to her.”

Perhaps remembering the things he had and hadn’t allowed from his own fireteam, Nisus sighed. “Okay. What the hell did Lishan set her on fire for?”

“In her mind Silla had made a fool of her on purpose. I’ve watched a log. Silla did everything in her power to give Gall a chance to succeed but Gall insisted on doing it her way. It looked to me that she felt the pressure of being the sole survivor of Bantusk very deeply.”

“She- she set another person on fire because she made a stupid mistake?” Nisus asked incredulously.

“Whatever influence the Hive had on her was profound,” Slàine reminded him. Nisus stilled and Slàine could see the wrath building in his eyes. “Silla has resources I don’t fully comprehend, and very powerful allies. I assure you Gall is safer than nearly anyone else in the system.”

“I’ll have to thank her for that,” the man said eventually. “I love that kid but she slows me down a lot and I don’t think I could tolerate that now, not when I’ve only just got the chance to move again.”

Slàine leaned forward on his elbows again. “Go as fast as you need to to feel real for a while, but don’t get lost in it. You have enough to get lost in already and I think the kid needs you.”

“Feel like I should be paying you or something,” Nisus muttered.

Laughing, Slàine shook his head. “First time’s free,” he joked. “I’m a veteran too. Different kinds of wars, different kinds of challenges. Loss though? Loss is always loss. War is where things make sense if you close your eyes. Most folk never find something to replace that when they go home.”

“This makes sense with my eyes open,” Nisus said slowly. 

Slàine watched him for a moment. “That why you can’t rest until every last Hive is dead?”

“No. That’s revenge.”

Slàine nodded. “Then where is the logic coming from?”

“They’re of the Dark,” Nisus said. “They’re a danger to us, to humanity, to the Traveler.”

“Pretty black and white.”

“That joke got old a long time ago.”

“I’m not joking,” Slàine shook his head. “I want you to see that you’re still using Guardian logic when you’re not one anymore.”

All the air rushed out of Nisus. “What?”

“What do you think they’d do to you?” asked Slàine, gentle as he could. “That Commander would settle on killing you, _maybe_ exile, or another box. That Rey lady would be furious about it, shout and yell and stomp her feet, but she would have already agreed with him.” Nisus closed his eyes and didn’t respond. “You can’t afford to think like they do.”

“Aren’t you a Lightbearer? Aren’t you set to fight the Darkness?”

“Apparently. But I never agreed to any of this. I chose exactly none of this. And that matters.” Nisus wilted where he sat. “The physics of how light works? It doesn’t exist without darkness; they’re two extremes of the same spectrum. The places where both hold equal sway? Shadow. You’ve still got more Light than Dark, but that’s a choice you have to make and keep making.”

“You think full elimination of the Dark is impossible?”

“I’m saying if we did that there would be no need for the Traveler and it would go the way of all things who’ve lost their usefulness in an ecosystem.”

“So we should preserve some facet of the dark just to preserve ourselves?” Nisus asked, swinging toward angry. 

“Nah. In a perfect world the point of a soldier is to make sure no one else ever has to be a soldier. If it meant destroying myself to free humanity from the danger the Darkness presents, I’d do it without question. But it would also mean destroying my sister, my friends, my Ghost. And then there would still be the Fallen, the Cabal, the Scorn. There are plenty of threats outside of the Dark.” Nisus stared at him. “The Traveler created Ghosts when it had to go catatonic. Supposedly Ghaul woke it up but I’m pretty sure it would have been better off getting some more rest first. Crota came here for the Light. Oryx came here when Crota died. What’s going to follow the eddies of Oryx’ death?”

“We can’t spend all our resources on the Hive without making ourselves weak,” Nisus concluded.

Slàine laughed. “One track mind.”

“It’s all I have left,” Nisus said and then looked like he’d swallowed a lemon.

“Not even the Sword Logic says that,” Slàine countered. “You have plenty of other enemies to sharpen yourself against. You have a daughter who desperately needs to be safe. You have a pair of teammates who wouldn’t be alive without you. You have a skillful ally in Ms. Blake. You have mastery over two power sources and something in between, and an Ascendent Realm at your disposal. That’s more than just an enemy to destroy.”

Nisus had looked away early into Slàine’s words. If his face were wet, Slàine only thought better of him. “You keep this up there won’t be a need for a second session,” he said, voice thick.

Slàine smiled, mirthless. “Everyone thinks that at first.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EDIT: First and foremost: *If you are suffering from mental or emotional distress, please do not isolate yourself unless it is a matter of survival. People who love you want to help you when they know you need help. Please allow yourself to receive help and support and love if you are able to do so. Please consider pursuing professional assistance.*   
> If you choose to pursue professional assistance, take the time to familiarize yourself with the different kinds of qualifications and licenses available in your area and allow that data to inform the process of selecting a professional.   
> If finances are the reason you do not pursue professional assistance, many communities have programs to help with such scenarios. I, myself, received financial assistance for my first year of therapy from a religious organization that happened to be regularly kind to me and no, they did not require anything from me in return.  
> Additionally, as someone who has been profoundly harmed by mental health professionals, I give you permission and encourage you to disregard bullshit and fire your therapist at any time. Out of all of the mental health professionals I have seen (numbering around 24 in the past six years), only two have caused me any form of harm. One misunderstood me and treated me as he understood, the other recommended a course of action that landed me in a psych hospital. Be selective. You are your own advocate and defender.   
> Please be safe and take care of yourselves. 
> 
> The recent updates to Destiny 2 have not only gone in a _very_ different direction from my own, they have also bothered me for a number of reasons. I will admit to struggling to generate creative energy for this project since the news regarding the season of the Worthy. Admittedly, I adored the content surrounding Rasputin but as the season of Arrivals began it seemed to invalidate or make irrelevant all of our efforts with Rasputin. 
> 
> I have a bit more written and I intend to release that in the coming weeks after careful proofreading. I can't currently make any promises regarding whether or not I will complete this project.
> 
> As I have a plan for at least an in-setting year's worth of content, once the fullness of my work thus far is published here, I may write up the rest of the project in a more summary-styled manner with occasional breaks into full prose for potent scenes. 
> 
> In the meantime, thank you so much for reading. Ad astra.


	4. Faers and Fears

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First and foremost: _If you are suffering from mental or emotional distress, please do not isolate yourself unless it is a matter of survival. People who love you want to help you when they know you need help. Please allow yourself to receive help and support and love if you are able to do so. Please consider pursuing professional assistance._  
>  If you choose to pursue professional assistance, take the time to familiarize yourself with the different kinds of qualifications and licenses available in your area and allow that data to inform the process of selecting a professional.  
> If finances are the reason you do not pursue professional assistance, many communities have programs to help with such scenarios. I, myself, received financial assistance for my first year of therapy from a religious organization that happened to be regularly kind to me and no, they did not require anything from me in return.  
> Additionally, as someone who has been profoundly harmed by mental health professionals, I give you permission and encourage you to disregard bullshit and fire your therapist at any time. Out of all of the mental health professionals I have seen (numbering around 24 in the past six years), only two have caused me any form of harm. One misunderstood me and treated me as he understood, the other recommended a course of action that landed me in a psych hospital. Be selective. You are your own advocate and defender.  
> Please be safe and take care of yourselves.
> 
> SECOND:  
> I posted the chapter titled "First Time's Free" before I should have, skipping the actual second chapter. This is me telling you that you get two chapters for the price of one, if you go back to the new chapter two. It's a great deal.

“You can resolve this?” Isaac asked. 

“Oh no,” Slàine shook his head as he dropped himself next to his sister. “It’s not like that. To be honest, I’m bloody terrified she’s gotten to this point.”

“Explain,” Isaac demanded.

“She’s always struggled with mental illness,” Sly pulled off his gloves. “An argument could be made that they came before the physical diseases but ultimately it doesn’t matter. The way certain mental disorders affect a person actually permanently changes the physical makeup of the brain. It’s more complicated than that but if I can get access to a full library I can point out the right books. 

“The important part is Ardath knew enough to put her back together physically but didn’t know the first thing about how to put a brain to rights. To be honest, doing so would have changed who she was irrevocably. Not sure that didn’t happen anyway since she stood up in an unfamiliar body.”

“None of that tells me how to help her,” Isaac sounded like he could growl. 

“Trauma therapy, mostly,” Sly sighed. “And unfortunately she only remembers the traumas since her resurrection but her body is still suffering the impact of the previous traumas.”

“What previous traumas?”

“God, where to start? Lots of hospitalizations were traumatizing. Abusive people. Living with debilitating chronic illness. Plenty of stuff. To be honest, I’ve been wondering about how she was doing with it all but wasn’t sure how to ask since she doesn’t remember.”

“And what is trauma therapy?”

“Complicated, and I’m not saying that to stall you or to try and throw you off. I’m saying it because I don’t know enough to explain it well. I know enough to know how much I don’t know about the subject and that’s about it. I need either a well preserved, massive library, a mental health professional school, possibly a medical school library, something.”

“Here,” Silla stepped into the light with a datapad in her hands. “Go through these listings and highlight what you need. I can get them for you by the end of the week or so.”

“Perfect,” Sly said, already buried in the catalogs.

“You just happened to have that?” Isaac asked and he sounded suspicious. 

“Blake’s whole thing is finding old places of knowledge and holding them until she can get every single scrap recorded and saved. I’ve helped her set up defenses often enough that she gave Bee the access codes to her servers. I don’t actually have permissions to download full copies without being on site.”

“I’m not enjoying how intertwined all this is,” he muttered.

“Me neither,” Silla admitted. 

“Well, you’re both going to need to ease up or find another way to get things out of your system,” Sly said, not looking up. “We can’t afford to jeopardize alliances or resources because we’re displeased by the messenger.”

Isaac took a moment to consider. “I am still learning how to trust others and still keep her safe,” he said slowly. “I shall attempt to keep a broader perspective.” Slàine glanced up and flashed him a smile.

“I don’t know if I can afford to even pretend to trust Blaise,” Silla said after a long silence. 

“Then don’t. But don’t treat him like an aggressor until he is one. Thus far you have been the only aggressor.”

A shudder ran through her. “Sly,” she said, hesitating. 

He looked up from the datapad. “You’re terrified. I get that. I’m getting the impression this is the first time you’ve been genuinely afraid of something you have to do anyway?” Her hands shook. She didn’t respond, which was answer enough. “Silla,” Sly started to rise.

“Don’t,” her voice was quieter than she meant it to be. “Please don’t.”

Sly lowered himself back to the floor without looking away. “Not planning to handle this on your own are you?” He continued without giving her a chance to respond. “Only, I think this is exactly the sort of scenario people have mentors for. And sometimes friends.”

She swallowed and eventually nodded. “I need to think before I talk about it.”

“Sure,” he agreed easily. “Please don’t isolate yourself.”

“Okay. I- I’m going to head back to Earth soon. I think I need some normalcy.”

“I kind of want to hug you right now,” Sly admitted.

“Okay,” she said, and was immediately swarmed. “I’m okay, I think.”

“You’re gonna be fine,” he agreed from her shoulder. “You just need to take a minute.”

“Try to keep things calm around here, yeah? Fewer surprises would be good.”

“No promises,” he grinned as he turned her loose. 

“Gonna say goodbye to the others,” she turned to Isaac. “Don’t forget to take time for yourself, yeah?”

“I will reevaluate my energy allotments,” he decided, drawing a soft chuckle from her. “Be well, Silla.”

“You too,” she said, slipping into the darkness where she paused to gather herself.

Sly sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Gonna add at least a month to our fireteam projections, maybe more. If Xol is as well contained as it sounds like, then it would be criminally stupid not to use this time as thoroughly as we can.”

“I agree,” said Isaac. “I am afraid you came back only to be thrown into the deep end.”

Sly flicked his eyes to Isaac without moving his head, grin sharp and dangerous. “I know how to swim.”


	5. Stop! Panic Time!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter portrays an outside perspective on a panic attack being ignored by the one suffering from it. Please be careful if this may be triggering to you.

MU-3 saw Silla stiffen out of the corner of his eye and immediately blinked away from the Ward of Dawn and toward the exit, a hair’s breadth away from calling for a wine night, when Silla began issuing orders. 

“Crimson! Vice and Russ hold this position. Cloud clear the top. MU-”

“Already here, Faer,” he said, before she could order him away. He knew the rest of the team didn’t think there was anything wrong. MU though? He knew what fear looked like on Silla and he had never seen it on her in the Leviathan before.

“MU, I-” she started to argue with him on their doubles line.

“Kit, take Bee up to the ship and engage stealth drives.” The Ghosts vanished.

Silla was silent a beat. “Follow me,” she said quietly.

They moved through the hidden passageways of the Leviathan until they were back in the Castellum and surrounded by sounds of combat. MU still hadn’t figured out what was happening when Silla manifested a somehow-purple Golden Gun and fired repeatedly into a mass of Cabal. When they fell there was a man on the other side, turning to look at them over his shoulder. 

“What did I tell you about staying alive, Blaise?” Silla asked, voice flat.

“Ah!” A cheerful voice came as the man walked toward them, pulling off his helmet. “Ms. Faer! How are you?”

“Still suspicious of your timing,” she said in an almost pleasant voice as she dismissed the revolver. “What are you doing here?”

“Ms. O Brion’s stories of the Cabal gave me the impression they are the enemy of Earth and yet here is a Cabal Emperor’s ship and it’s labeled as an ally in the Vanguard registry. I was… curious. But that is less important than this,” the man carefully resettled his balance and posture and looked straight at Silla with a serious expression. “I owe you an apology, Ms. Faer.”

Silla froze for a microsecond before tilting her head.

“I apologize for how I have harassed you over Lishan. Everyone whose counsel I trust has told me that you and your word can be trusted implicitly. I have even seen evidence of this but chose not to believe it out of some sort of pride I think. I am working to correct myself and to avoid similar mistakes in the future.”

“It’s about time,” MU muttered in order to draw Blaise’s attention to himself to give Silla a moment to recover. 

“Please, forgive my rudeness; I did not see you there. I am Nisus Blaise and this is Edgar,” he gestured to his Ghost.

“MU-3. Marikit’s around somewhere.”

Silla shifted a bit and MU spotted the tremor in the hand that Nisus couldn’t see. “I need a minute,” Silla said and vanished. 

“Lishan’s improving steadily,” MU said to cover for her, immediately drawing Nisus’ gaze. “She’s woken up a few times now. Recognizes people, gets some soup down, falls back asleep. Niles says she’s recovering.”

Some of the stiffness left Nisus’ posture. “Niles always knew what was going on with her,” he said to himself. “That’s good to hear. You are the one who noticed her Light had diminished?”

“I am. I do most of the healing for the team in the field and Lishan had command of our three-man fireteam. I’ve been doing what I can to help since Faer brought her in.”

Nisus nodded. “Thank you.”

“Sure,” MU shrugged. “I’m just glad to finally know how to help.”

“Do you happen to know what is going on with the Cabal here?”

“Calus? Yeah. Silla’s got some sort of deal with him.”

Before Nisus could respond to that Silla emerged and walked back to them, her helmet under one arm as she ran the other hand over her braid. MU watched Nisus do a double take and wondered. She came to a stop next to MU, her posture deliberately relaxed as she met Nisus’ eyes. “I accept your apology.”

Nisus inclined his head and tucked his hands into his sleeves. “Thank you, Ms. Faer. I’m honored. Since you seem to have this situation well in hand, I’ll leave you to it unless there is any way in which I can be helpful.”

“Stay alive,” Silla said again.

“I shall endeavor to do so. It was a pleasure to meet you, MU. Thank you again.”

“Sure,” MU said as the man disappeared.

Silla was still long enough that MU stepped forward and slowly wrapped a hand around her wrist. “Kit, come get us please.” Shortly they were on board MU and Kit’s ship and he was gently easing Silla into a chair. 

“The others-”

“Are fine. Bee’s monitoring them,” MU countered. “Take as long as you need.” He knew the situation with Nisus upset her; he hadn’t realized how badly. “Newbie’s doing great.”

Silla dropped her head in her hands and MU left her to it, shuffling to the control panel and Marikit. “Why can’t a nose be twelve inches long?” he asked her, dropping himself in the pilot’s chair. The Ghost turned to look at him, silent. “Because it would be a foot!”

“I regret everything,” Marikit said even as MU shook with silent laughter.


	6. Crisis Response: TGM

“Why don’t we take a break and have some tea?” Martellus suggested. 

“Done,” Silla said, throwing herself face-first at the nearest soft surface. Luckily, that happened to be the oddball nest-thing Martellus had put together specifically for Silla. Relieved, Bee transmatted Silla’s weapons away. Given the manner of the day’s training Silla had forgone armor so there was none of that to deal with. Bee settled in to watch from her perch on a pile of cushions. 

She had made an appointment with Soren for Silla to spend time with Martellus. Bee knew very well that Silla was struggling with something but she didn’t know for certain what it was. She had narrowed it down to three possibilities: Lishan, Nisus Blaise, and the idea of fighting a Hive god. She knew Silla was upset and concerned over all three of those situations but she didn’t know which was affecting her the most. 

Soren and Martellus had somehow managed to keep control of two connected Vex portals and had set up targets outside of each in order for them to work at response times while dealing with the disorientation of the teleportation. They’d been at it for hours now and Bee was fair to writhing out of her shell with impatience. 

Martellus himself settled in with his tea and a plate of cookies. “So how do you feel the Vex gate compares to transmat?”

“Faster, and honestly less disorienting. The only benefit of transmat in terms of orientation is that Bee can tell me what it is I’ll be facing and degrees, angles, distances.” 

“And it doesn’t require architecture.” Silla hummed in agreement. “I’ve always found the Vex gate to be more uncomfortable.”

She shrugged. “Not to in any way express distrust, Bee,” Silla glanced at Bee’s perch. “But the idea of being disassembled and reassembled is not… my favorite.” Bee chuckled to herself.

“Seems entirely reasonable from that perspective.” 

“The idea of being able to consistently, predictably manipulate space-time well enough to make these gates is more interesting than not, to me.”

“My understanding is that the Vex do not see reality along the same lines that we do. Their experience is linear but they are more aware of the dimension of time: more removed from it, less invested in it.” He savored his tea in silence for a time. “Lishan continues to rest.”

“Good.”

“How goes the substitute?”

“Oh, he’s fine. He’s responding better to Vice than I thought he would and Vice is responding better to teaching than I expected.”

“Good. She may be capable of some leadership.”

“She is. She always has been. It’s just a matter of convincing her that it’s worth the discomfort.”

“Now that she doesn’t have Lishan to defer to.” Silla nodded her agreement. “Well, growth is rarely comfortable.” He sighed and placed his plate on the side table. “Speaking of, I am having to reassess at least some thoughts regarding the nature of this conflict.”

“Which conflict?”

“The Light and Dark, the Traveler versus their enemy, guardians versus the servants of their enemy, so on and so forth. The reemergence of Nisus Blaise has upset some paradigms.”

“Yeah,” she said, twisting in place to face him. “Last I heard, two of the team will recover.”

“Win Count? That’s good.”

“I’m hoping it will be a stabilizing influence on him.” 

“Oh, I doubt that very much. There are still several others. Hope is not a stabilizing influence, hope is a catalyst.” He considered a moment. “If he is still a human, and operating along the lines of the Nisus Blaise who went in, I fully expect this will excite rather than calm him.”

“He keeps doing things that I don’t expect,” Silla admitted slowly. “In a good way, though, which is concerning.”

“Could I ask you to elaborate?”

“He apologized.”

“To whom?”

“Me.”

“For?”

“The way he treated me over Lishan. He showed up on the Leviathan.” Martellus raised an eyebrow so she continued. “We were doing a run so I left the team there. MU came with me. Nisus wanted to understand why there was a Cabal ship labeled as an ally in the Vanguard registry. He said, “You have this well in hand, I’ll leave you to it,” and he also apologized. I don’t-” she shook her head and looked for words. “Every time I turn around he’s doing the things that I want from an ally and I don’t dare trust him.”

Martellus watched her for a moment. “We’ve discussed trust before. It is not a binary.”

“How much of that is really applicable in this case? He read the Tablets of Ruin. He used them.”

“Yes. That is certainly a great liability. The increments by which I will give him trust will be- Well, for one I will take into account what he’s capable of and I will not try to prevent him from doing things I cannot stop him from doing. I will not give him reasons to see me as a threat until it is time to do so. But I also will not give him trust in large increments.”

Silla frowned at the ceiling, thinking of Nisus’ capabilities. “He can generate matter within the Ascendent Realm. It’s more complicated than that but provided he is within the realm he can decide to make a specific part or ammunition. Blake has him producing glimmer because it’s programmable. He’s giving an enormous sum of glimmer to the Failsafe project.”

“Certainly a cause worth supporting. His ability to format matter is of more concern than his ability to generate it. Glimmer is not a simple substance.”

“I listened to a conversation he had with Slàine,” Silla confessed. “He’s giving to the Failsafe project because he wants to give Shry some of what she gave him when she killed Xol. From what I understand, within the Realm there was very little to do and he could watch things that had to do with the Hive and watching Shry kill Xol was the first time he had hope since the Ascendent Realm closed. So he’s giving to the project because he wants her to have hope. But his ultimate goal is complete annihilation of the Hive.”

“A lofty goal. One that would benefit us.”

“To get it done, he’s going about it the right way. Start at the top.”

“And he has embraced the Dark to do it.”

“No. He’s using the Dark. He has not embraced it.”

“A fine distinction. I would ask for your evidence.”

“His words, his behavior.”

“One question might be is he engaging in the Sword Logic.”

“Unclear.”

“He gained access to these powers, to the ascendent realm, by killing Oryx. Sword logic would dictate that he has taken Oryx’s power or a place that was offered to him because Oryx was removed from it more specifically. If that pattern is to continue and he does assault the top of the Hive which would not be Savathun but the Hive gods then he will at least be offered power as a result. Power, opportunities, however you choose to frame it. Well it will be interesting to see what he does in that situation. Now obviously to assault a Hive god of which there are five, it would be useful to have the power of a Hive god. Taking on the power of one would be perfectly reasonable. Taking on the power of two could even be considered reasonable. At that point can we stop him if he decides to or is influenced to turn against the Sol system.”

“Right now I am banking mostly on his limitations as a human, his attachments. He’s already taken on the equivalent of a Hive god in Oryx. He’s involving Shry because he wants her to kill Xol. He called it letting her finish the job. He does intend to go after the other worms, but from everything I’ve heard which is most of what he has said he has not said anything to indicate he intends to be the one to get the killing blow.”

“Well, he’s the one with a Throne World so what he’s said and what his plans are… Nothing’s clear.”

“I know. I said unclear when you asked about the Sword Logic because I don’t know. He’s clearly experiencing some sort of sway or pull toward something that looks like the Sword Logic but that could just be survivor’s guilt.”

“Well based on my experience with the Dark, anything that compromises his focus, his resolve, his will, makes him vulnerable to influence.”

“Which makes the situation even more complicated. Does that mean that in order to make good use of the resource that he provides to us as an opportunity, we need to enforce or encourage or build up his will? Do we need to build him up and if so what happens then? What sort of trap are we laying for ourselves?”

“Indeed. The simplest thing would be for him to destroy our enemies and himself in the process.”

“He’s indicated a willingness to do exactly that.”

“I’m not sure that I’m willing to encourage that end. Simply because of the- Well, I’m not willing to start making that choice. Though if it comes to it I will.”

“I’ve already decided to do it if I need to. You don’t have to.”

“No,” he said simply. “If it comes time to push a man to kill himself - that’s not something for you. I’ll do it.”

“I think I get to decide.”

“You do,” he agreed immediately. 

“We don’t know-”

“I would ask that you let me.”

Silla paused and sighed. “I can’t make any promises. Depends on the situation.”

“I’ll take it,” he said and for once he looked his age. “So. Do we build him up? Do we push him toward insecurities we can use? Do we make an enemy of him? The last is out of the question in the current situation. Though if we’re going to make an enemy of him sooner is better than later.” Martellus paused, considering. “I want to get his perspective on the Pyramid.”

“You want to talk to him? Or do you want me to?”

“No, but I will. I would appreciate your support. I don’t imagine that we know what his sensory capacities are but I would appreciate overwatch.”

“Done.”

“With the understanding,” he continued. “That you are not responsible for what happens.”

She shook her head, already beyond it. “What do you need?”

“A very large bullet pointed at his head while I talk to him about the Pyramid.”

“Where? How? When?”

“I need to consider the logistics. I will keep you informed.”

“Okay. I’ll arrange for MU to be here for Lishan.”

“Appreciate it,” he agreed. “I’m going to inform some people that I’m doing this.”

“Who?”

“Lord Shaxx. The Drifter. Osiris. Eris.”

She nodded. “Eris is in the Throne World. She’s been taking care of Keil and Nova.”

“That’s good,” he said immediately. “That’s probably very good for her.”

“She’s not happy with me for how much I distrust him.”

“I would imagine she is willing to throw her full support behind him.”

“Outside of the fact that he very emphatically declared that he will not be working with the vanguard, yeah. I didn’t expect her to still believe in it,” she hesitated. “I’m not sure it’s a matter of belief.”

“I think Ikora is about all she has left from before.”

“She and Lishan have a lot in common. I wish I’d seen it sooner.”

“I’m not sure Eris’ mind is something we want to delve into too terribly deeply.”

“Lishan,” Silla corrected. “I wish I’d seen any of it.”

“You respected Lishan’s choices. That was well done. Lishan will have to take responsibility for her own choices since she didn’t give them to you.”

Finally, finally Bee watched Silla break. “I have- I knew- Sly sat Nisus down and got him to explain himself better than anybody else has. And he said that he was going to apologize to me. And I still- I knew that he would probably say it when he showed up on the Leviathan. And I still can’t- I didn’t- I left MU alone with him,” the last was nearly a whisper. 

Martellus was quiet for a long moment. “It occurs to me that in training your mind I have overlooked something.”

“What do you mean?” Silla’s voice was quiet and without inflection. 

“Whether or not the scientific community would still classify us as homo sapiens, we are human and historically, philosophically, that carries with it some implications. We are not difference engines. Our minds are subject to influence from emotion, from association, from more information than we are capable of cognitively processing. If your instinct tells you to trust him, then that’s data to be considered.”

“I don’t know if it’s instinct or not. I want to trust him. I can’t-” She shook herself and her hands clenched. “I haven’t stopped thinking about what I would have done in his place. The differences are small; small enough to not be worth mentioning in some ways. Knowing what it would take for me to be willing to make that decision, I have to wonder just how much of himself he’s hiding right now.”

“Well, if he’s still human, then most of it. If he’s not human, then all of it.”

“He is still, by default, a Lightbearer. He has to either come into contact with the Dark in some intentional way in order to start manipulating the Dark or he has to- I don’t- I haven’t gotten enough information but there is a way he can access it without input but he prefers not to do it that way.” 

“We have a lot to learn. We’ll see how much time we have to do it. In the meantime, you told me that you left MU alone with him.”

Bee watched Silla conceal a shudder. “Yeah.”

“I assume Marikit was elsewhere?”

“Marikit and Bee were both elsewhere. I mean, monitoring device and Doubles lines were open. I didn’t go all that far either, still in the room. I just-” She fell silent and it took Martellus making a soft, prompting sound to bring her back. “This is precisely the sort of situation where I can’t just up and leave my fireteam behind like that. That was a mistake.”

“I disagree.”

“He could have done anything.” 

“You can’t account for capabilities you're not aware of.”

“I don’t mean that. I mean that I left MU alone with a very clear and apparent threat.”

“And of all your fireteam, MU is the best equipped to escape such a situation barring yourself.”

“That doesn’t mean it should have happened. Doesn’t make it okay.”

“Why not?”

“Because I can’t lead if I’m the one who runs.”

“How did MU react to the situation?”

“Covered for me.”

“And did that surprise you?” 

“No.”

“And why not?”

“Follows his patterns.”

“What does his pattern tell you about MU?”

“He’s loyal. He’s brave. Trusts me.”

“And is MU a fool?”

“Not usually.”

“Then perhaps you should accept his judgment.”

“We’re not talking about his judgement are we?”

“To some degree yes we are. You can’t do everything yourself. It’s why you have a fireteam.”

“My concern isn’t with his judgement; it’s with mine.”

“Yes. And in this moment your judgement was compromised so you relied on his.” 

“How exactly did I rely on his?”

“You left the situation and allowed him to determine his own course.” Martellus watched Silla’s face for a long moment before he settled back in his chair. “Two points. First, you place a great deal of trust in MU as the runner. Perhaps you can trust him to take care of himself and even to cover your back. Secondly, were Nisus Blaise prepared to reveal himself as an enemy, I don’t think he would choose MU. So I believe this matter may be more about the importance you place on MU and about the danger of Nisus.” 

“No,” Silla said immediately. “It’s about whether or not my leadership is compromised. Can I trust myself to lead my fireteam, not all of which are as capable or prepared to make judgement calls as MU, when I can’t- when I consistently have to walk away in this situation.”

“This situation being dealing with Nisus Blaise?”

“Every time I’ve been there to interact with him, I’ve had to walk away.”

“Because he’s upset you?”

“You said it yourself, he upsets paradigms. I don’t know how to function. Messes up prioritizations and… turns most of what I’ve been taught upside down in some fashion. If it turned it upside down, that’d be simpler. Turns it inside out and twists it.”

“Specifically, the antipathy of Light and Dark?”

“And the capacity of a Lightbearer to interact with the Dark. Capacity of a Ghost.”

“This does bear investigation. Have you heard his Ghost speak?”

“Yeah, Edgar. He explained- I asked it what it was like for him when Nisus used the Dark. It’s for Edgar’s sake that he finds some way to interface with the dark before he starts manipulating it. Doing it without some sort of external input or prompting is apparently painful for Edgar.”

“Well his concern for his Ghost’s comfort is a good sign. We have more to learn, as I said. As to this specific instance… Silla, when I told you that you need to survive, did you think I was telling you you need to be perfect?”

“No, that’s not what that means.”

“Good. Because you are going to make mistakes. You are even going to have weaknesses.” Silla flinched at weaknesses and Martellus continued. “It’s a simple truth. You cannot do everything by yourself. No one can, nor should anyone expect to. If I thought it was possible, I wouldn’t be concerned with training new Guardians, I would simply do it all myself.”

“Still short sighted, doing it all yourself.”

“Potentially. Unless I’m perfect.”

“Depends on how you define perfect.”

“Semantics aside, were I a perfect warrior I wouldn’t need a fireteam. I don’t have a fireteam not because I’m a perfect warrior but because I’m not in the field much these days and there are better uses for my time. Increasingly, it seems that may change. And if it does, I will need to collect a fireteam and work on covering their weaknesses and work with them on covering mine. That’s what a team is for, not simply to have more tools on my belt. You can’t protect your back when you’re staring down a sniper scope. That’s what a team is for.” Bee knew Martellus could see how off balance Silla was, tense and frowning. “May I hear what you’re thinking?”

“I lead a fireteam. I don’t have a fireteam.”

“You don’t consider MU to be a part of your fireteam?”

“Two doesn’t make a fireteam.”

“It doesn’t. It’s a good start though.” When Silla didn’t respond, Martellus shifted in place. “I hope you know that if you have need of help I am available.”

“I know that. I’m not following the connection.”

“If you need another for your fireteam.”

“You just said fireteams have to be able to cover for each other’s weaknesses. That means we have to be peers. Don’t think we’re there yet.”

“Not yet. You’re making rapid progress. But if you needed someone to help, I would fit myself into your patterns.”

“I know. You and Katya are at the top of that list.”

“So are you thinking of forming your own fireteam?”

“I don’t know. Now’s not the time to upset things. But it’s- Leading a fireteam is not what I set out to do. It’s not what I meant to do. Saw a situation and asked a few people to help and they stuck around.”

“And you are currently working towards training them to independence.”

“Yeah. Hell, I could let Vice, Pryderi, and Rathna go. Turn them loose as their own independent fireteam and they’d do just fine but they wouldn’t understand. I don’t want to hurt them.”

“Work them up to it. Give them independence. Don’t cut contact.”

“Yeah.”

“It would not mean losing them. It would be giving them independence. Opportunity. Responsibility. You don’t always take both teams anyway.”

“No. They’re lined up for a couple of strikes next week.”

“They follow you for now, they could follow someone else. Fireteams change, you have not married anyone.”

Silla choked on something like a laugh. “No. That’s not likely to happen.” Bee didn’t like her tone, but kept silent.

“I think MU and Rathna at least would be happy to remain your friends even if you were no longer in a professional relationship.” Silla nodded and this silence was less fraught, if still tense. “I will say this: there is not likely to come a convenient time for change. It is a thing that must either be planned for or reacted to. And from what you’re telling me I think that this will happen one way or another.”

Silla took a deep breath and Bee could sense her centeing herself in the present. “I’ll talk to Vice. If she’s up for it, she’s up for it.” Slowly, the Hunter’s focus engaged and she looked over to Bee’s perch. “Bee, send him all of the recordings and data relevant to Nisus.”

“I appreciate it,” Martellus said in response to Bee’s affirmative chirp. “If he’s a significant emotional trigger for you, perhaps I should get someone else for overwatch. I wouldn’t want to put you in an uncomfortable situation.”

“Killing him isn’t the hard part.”

“Mm. Trusting him is?” At Silla’s nod, Martellus turned contemplative. “I know that his potential capabilities make him hard to predict. I certainly agree that his associations call for a questioning of his motives. Is there more to your difficulty with him?”

Silla took the time to reorient her position in her nest to facilitate facing Martellus more directly. “He is everything about me that I’m afraid of almost… You said I had to survive, that’s the whole point of all this, right? Me surviving doesn’t look like you. Never was gonna look like you. In my head, it looked closer to Eris than anything else, maybe Asher, Osiris. But now? Knowing what I know? Nisus.”

“It is possible. I would hope it would look more like Emma Blake.”

Silla snorted. “I don’t.”

Martellus offered up a small smile and explained. “She is sane and independent. Not that you should use her as a role model, simply to remind you that there are quite a few Lightbearers who have not spent themselves in the attempt to guide the vanguard, who have managed their resources more carefully than Osiris. Eris and Nisus both did a brave thing and paid for it but I hope that you will not suffer in that way, to that degree. It is to that end that I’m doing my best to arm you as thoroughly as I can. 

“Though it does occur to me that you are more than bright enough to reach your own conclusions given sufficient data. Soren if you would, please, send Bee coordinates for the Library.”

Silla blinked at the sudden shift in topic and tone even as Bee received a data packet. “Library?”

“When I was raised, I did not come to the city immediately. In fact it took me several years to repair a ship to get me here. I spent that time in what was, during the Golden Age, a military academy. Very little of material value was left, but there was a library.” Martellus’ tone drifted closer to reverent than Bee had ever heard it. “Limited, of course, to things such as military tactics, strategy, bits of military history and culture. I spent close to a century teaching and training myself with these materials before I came here. There’s a degree to which I was overpreparing but also I wished to protect the library while still bringing the knowledge, the value, to the City. Thus, I shaped myself into what I believed to be the best thing to bring. You are possibly the first I have met who I believe could make better use of the data than of me and so I’m trusting you with the location.”

“You don’t think that you haven’t been of use, do you?” Silla asked quickly.

“Oh, certainly not,” Martellus dismissed the idea. “I have taught you a great deal, and I still have more to teach you but I do not wish to hold you back. I do not wish to instill all of my biases, conclusions. I would like to give you more free reign.”

Nodding, Silla relaxed. “Thank you.”

“You are welcome. I fully expect you to come back and tell me I’m wrong about everything.”

“I feel that’s unlikely.”

“I do too, but-” Bee could sense the way the weight of Martellus’ focus shifted the Light in the room. “Silla, if you end up trapped in the Hellmouth, losing your arm in the Pyramidion, closed off in Oryx’s dead Ascendent Realm,” the Light snapped to attention as if waiting for the slightest direction from the Warlock. “I will burn the system to ash to get you back.” 

Silla reeled, stunned by his words as her own Light reacted to Martellus’ and left the Awoken breathless. Bee wondered how she could have missed Silla not comprehending the depth and fullness of Martellus and Soren’s commitment to them. Did Silla really not recognize that Martellus didn’t just see her as useful but as something like family?

“And in the meantime,” he continued. “I will do everything I can not to send you into such situations. Every time something like that happens, we learn from it. We are much better at fighting our enemies than we once were. That does not mean there won’t be new surprises, new challenges, new dangers but we are learning. We are getting better. You are part of that. You’re one of the beneficiaries of that.”

Silla’s expression flipped to humor, though it was shaky. “Kinda thought it was our job to protect the Sol system, not burn it down.”

“It’s our job to protect what we love,” Martellus spoke with complete certainty, perfectly composed.

The tremor that went through the dumbfounded Hunter took her from breathless to wheezing but Bee was relieved to see that Silla did not look away from her mentor once while his statement affected her. More than that, Bee was positively exultant; bringing Silla to Martellus had not only been a good call, it was the perfect call. Silla not only had the anchor of Martellus very firmly reinforced and entrenched, she also had a new opportunity that would direct her mind away from Clutch, Lishan, Blaise, her dads, and Xol. Even if she were to think of those things, this library’s contents would surely provide new methods and perspectives from which to consider them.

Finally, Silla found her voice. “Okay,” she managed, the sound congested and wet. “Okay,” she repeated, more normally. 

Martellus smiled gently. “Earth is a very convenient place to keep my candies and my brandies, but it is not everything I love.”

As Silla cried herself to pieces in the safety of Martellus’ home, Bee felt a tension that she hadn’t known existed come loose. Isolation. With her dads out of range and her fireteam falling apart, most of Silla’s constants had vanished and the majority of her social connections with them. Add to that Silla’s apparent misunderstanding of how Martellus saw her and you get a Silla who felt not only isolated but probably even unwanted as a person, only useful as a weapon or a strategist and tactician.

Bee had never felt more grateful for Martellus. She would have to thank him properly. In the meantime, she had work to do.


	7. Overwatch, Part 1

Silla sat at the controls of The Revelation. Martellus’ preferred gunship was mounted with a long-range ballistic rail gun and that very gun was currently locked on to the signal of Martellus’ entertaining vessel, The Glorious Light. In orbit over Earth, The Light was now riddled with live-monitoring devices that fed into The Revelation’s scanners, with that uplink hidden within the constant connection to the Tower’s traffic control systems. The Revelation was positioned just beyond the horizon line, out of sight but within range.

In the end, Martellus had opted to invite Nisus Blaise to a formal dinner. Soren would stay with Silla on The Revelation and remotely control serving frames for the meal and entertainment. Martellus had chosen to use Blake’s personal channels to send the invitation both in acknowledgment of her role as handler and because they did not know Blaise’s contact information. 

The invitation itself was something to be seen: thick paper with golden scrollwork and sunbursts. The calligraphic text of the invitation read: _The Gentleman Martellus requests the presence of Nisus Blaise for a private dinner in recognition of his restoration to the system. Come prepared for relaxed entertainment and conversation. Appropriate dress can be provided if the guest will supply measurements._

Blake had not only replied with measurements, she’d included hexadecimals for the man’s skin tone, hair color, eye color, and even freckles, as well as complexion notes. Such a level of cooperation from Blake put Silla on her guard for the Warlock to have chosen to manipulate the situation to her benefit. The best odds were that Blake was mocking Martellus, Blaise, or both, but it was safest to be alert.

Blaise and Edgar transmatted onto the Glorious Light exactly on time; materializing in the dressing room Martellus had set aside for the purpose. Silla watched Blaise look around the room in confusion. “What?” he said, visibly confused. Silla could empathize. Martellus’ idea of hospitality was far beyond what anyone else considered reasonable in this day and age.

The interior of The Glorious Light was decorated in exclusively lavish materials: silks, lamé, rosewood, marble, gold, and crystal and it was all done up in Martellus’ typical color scheme of reds and golds. The dressing room was appointed for full benefit. The washroom in the corner was separated from the rest of the space with silk screens. The dressing table in the next corner had a vase of flowers and scented candles on one side, a mirror in the center, and a case of grooming products and tools on the other side. The seating was all well-stuffed, upholstered in soft fabrics. In the opposite corner stood a three-fold, full-length mirror next to the door. The last corner held the refreshments, including a beverage hutch and an actual fondue fountain that Silla was fully prepared to steal when this was over.

“Time to get gussied up,” Edgar announced, transmatting Nisus into the provided bathrobe and ushered him toward the washroom. 

“I’m confused,” Blaise said, even as he obeyed. Silla flipped the relevant screen toward Bee for monitoring because somehow, that line was too far. 

“Because you failed to pay attention to the schedule again,” Edgar muttered. “Be thorough and quick at the same time, would you?”

“I read the schedule for today!” Blaise’s voice was slightly muffled by the sound of water. 

Edgar didn’t see fit to respond and when Bee presented Silla with the monitor, Blaise was seated in front of the dressing table mirror and Edgar was trimming his hair. When that was done, Edgar continued to tell the Guardian what to do and how to do it. There was something of a struggle for dominance when Blaise discovered the fondue fountain. Silla sympathized with both of them. Eventually Edgar was satisfied with Blaise’s grooming and directed him to the Valet stand where the new lounge suit hung. 

Blaise looked up from the Valet stand to look at Edgar. “Did this guy spend ridiculous amounts of coin to set me up to look nice for him?” Silla smirked at his incredulity.

“Yes.” Edgar was not impressed by the delay in proceedings.

“What exactly is Ms. Blake doing to me, here? Am I being pimped out, Edgar?” He seemed like he might be excited by that idea. “Do you think she would have told me if she was doing that?”

“No, I don’t think she would,” was Edgar’s reply and Silla couldn’t help but agree with him.

Blaise’s mood was much higher after that, until he found out about the slippers. “Where are the shoes?”

“Right here,” Edgar floated over the soft, leather smoking slippers. 

“Those aren’t- Edgar, those aren’t shoes.” 

“Sir, this style of footwear has been traditional to indoor wear since-”

“They’re socks pretending to be shoes, Edgar. Look at them!”

“I did say indoor wear,” Edgar tried but to no avail. Blaise proceeded to argue with Edgar for the better part of ten minutes as if semantics would change the fact that it was the slippers or just socks. Eventually Edgar suggested that Blaise might at least try them on so that he could respond when their host inevitably questioned the state of his feet. Once they were on, Blaise grumbled but admitted that they were better than socks.

The next trial came because the ever-generous Martellus had provided a variety of options for accessorizing the suit. Every single step was a fight, seemingly because it could be. Lapel pins, cufflinks, pocket squares. Enough time went into it that Silla was glad Edgar had had the forethought to pass Blaise a cravat rather than any of the other neckwear; that single choice cut out any arguments over collar-wear and tie decor. 

Finally, Edgar pointed Blaise to the mirrors and the arguments ceased. Blaise turned this way and that, speechless. “You are welcome,” the poor Ghost said, overenunciating each syllable. Admittedly, even with Blaise’s peculiar choices of accessories, the whole thing had turned out well. Silla had a particular fondness for suits, herself, so she was unsurprised that the outfit worked. On the other hand, she was surprised Blaise turned out _that_ well.

At last, Blaise emerged from the dressing room. Martellus was in his element, of course: smoking jacket on, glass of brandy in hand, leaning on his cane. “Welcome aboard The Glorious Light!” Martellus declared with a sweep of an arm. “I am the Gentleman Martellus.”

Radiating delight and perhaps relief, Blaise bowed slightly. “A pleasure, I’m sure! I am Nisus Blaise and this is Edgar.”

“Pleased to meet you both. I’m afraid that my Ghost will not be joining us tonight. Soren is busy managing affairs. Dinner is ready whenever you are.”

“Of course,” Blaise nodded and glanced around the room. When he went comically bug eyed at the lavish interior of the entertainment space Silla grabbed a screenshot, zoomed in, and then sent the image to Blake.

“Watch Edgar,” Bee said, laughter in her tone. “He keeps moving to maintain good angles of Nisus’ face. I bet Emma put him up to it.”

Blaise was saved from getting lost in the luxury of the place when he finally caught sight of the enormous window that made up the far half of the room. The views from The Glorious Light were always incredible. Caught by the view of Earth, Blaise gravitated toward the window. 

“You’ve been away from Earth for some time,” Martellus noted, following after. “Have you been back?”

“Briefly,” Blaise said, voice quiet.

“Not had your fill, it would seem.”

“Well, it’s not something to get tired of,” Blaise seemed to catch up with himself.

“No, it’s not.”

“Please, forgive me. You said something about dinner?”

“Yes,” Martellus gestured toward the dining table that had an excellent view of the window. “Please join me.”

One of the serving frames holds a chair out for Blaise. “Oh, why thank you!” Another frame brought out the salad in gold chased ceramic bowls and the man was back to the bug eyes. Martellus held up the conversation, primarily asking questions that could be answered with a single word as Blaise was intent on the food. When they got to the bisque, Blaise’s reaction was a series of less than refined noises of pleasure and he blushed when he caught himself. “Excuse me. This is absolutely wonderful.”

“Well, thank you,” Martellus was far too gracious to laugh or otherwise draw attention to the slip but Silla could see his delight that Blaise was enjoying himself. “I try to spoil myself a little bit. It helps prepare me to deal with the things that Guardians face.”

“Ah,” Blaise nodded. “Good for you.”

“I try. You’ve not had the opportunity to relax for some time.” Martellus swiftly steered the conversation back toward safer waters to give Blaise time to enjoy his bisque. With the next dish, he began again. “Well, you came to my attention because you caused a bit of a stir.”

“I do try,” Blaise twinkled. “I’m glad someone noticed; thank you.”

“You refrained from making as big a splash as you could have, of course. Showing up in the Tower would have been rather more widely remarked, I’m certain.” Blaise smiled and waggled his eyebrows as he reached for his glass. “I can think of any number of reasons not to do that, but if it’s not too rude I would like to hear yours.”

“Why I didn’t go straight there?” he checked.

“Yes. After all, Win Count saved the system. Heroes, every one of you.”

“I knew that but I didn’t know if the rest of the system knew that. Didn’t know what had happened to Caris and Gordon. To be honest, I wasn’t real sure how much time had passed and I had a few… pressing concerns. First place I went was to - well, you seem to have her acquaintance - Ms. Blake, I mean. She had come into possession of an item that… Well, I was concerned that she did not understand what she had gotten herself into. I could see some things from the Realm, I should say. Things pertaining to the Hive were the only things I could see clearly.”

“I could believe that she might do that. She goes poking around in all sorts of dark corners.”

“She is braver than I am in many ways,” Blaise agreed. “I did not- Well, to be frank I was very concerned that I find out whether she knew what she had in her hands or not as quickly as possible. If she knew what she had, she would have been in league with the Hive and I had the feeling she was not an enemy I wanted to leave idle.”

“Interesting,” Martellus mused. “Well, I’m sure you’ve figured it out by now, but I can assure that Ms. Blake is in league with very nearly no one.”

“Don’t I know it,” Blaise said, with more than a little humor.

“We share some business associates who are rather discomfited by her recent abandonment of normal scheduling.”

“Is that so? It’s been next to impossible to learn anything about her from herself.”

“Oh, she has been an incredibly reliable business person for the better part of, oh, say four centuries on a rough guess.”

Blaise let out a soft whistle. “And she’s messing up that reputation for little old me? I’ll have to thank her.”

“Likely not for just the pretty face.”

Positively preening, Blaise laid a hand over his heart. “You like to give a man airs, don’t you?”

“I find that most people are more comfortable when they feel good about themselves,” Martellus said readily, drawing a laugh from Blaise. “I gather she hasn’t told you much about my invitation?”

“I found out I was booked for the evening about twenty minutes before we were to transmat,” Blaise explained. “All she really said was, and I quote, “Don’t fuck it up.””

“Well.” Silla watched Martellus choose not to get irritated. “She has her own sense of humor I suppose.”

“That she does. Mostly it has referred to embarrassing me. I do apologize for any ways in which that has been an affront to you.” Silla blinked in surprise at Blaise’s insight.

“Not at all,” Martellus said immediately, shifting to allow a frame to replace his dish with the next. “I simply invited you to dinner in recognition of your restoration to humanity.”

“That’s very gracious of you.”

“I admit that I have been very curious to meet you since I heard of your return.”

Blaise let his chin rest on his fist. “And how _did_ you hear of me?” he asked, sly. When he actually batted his eyelashes a time or two Bee started giggling.

“Silla Faer is a student of mine,” Martellus explained. 

Blaise wilted immediately but rallied well. “I see.”

“She’s been fairly agitated by your appearance, I must say.”

“I would agree with that statement.” His tone and posture were much more exact, business-like. Silla winced.

“I’m afraid I bear some of the blame for that,” Martellus said and Silla almost wished he hadn’t. “You see, I’ve had my own experiences with the Dark.” Martellus’ eyes grow distant and his expression hard. “Well. Let’s say I will not be repeating them. From what I’ve been able to gather,” he re-engaged with the present. “It seems that your experience was rather different though no more voluntary.”

“I wouldn’t say there’s anything about it I’d like to repeat.” Blaise was unusually sober.

“I can believe that.”

“You’re concerned about the using and manipulating the Dark, then.”

“Not so much.”

“It seems to be Ms. Faer’s greatest concern,” Blaise said dubiously.

“I’m sure it isn’t. There are various individuals - Ms. Blake, for instance - involved in experiments with manipulating the Dark energy, the Dark substance.”

That caught his attention. “Is that so?”

“One of our mutual associates is experimenting with it rather thoroughly. Though I doubt his experience is anything to yours.”

“Well, I can’t help but wonder why she hasn’t invited this individual to the party.”

“Oh, he’d likely try to kill you on sight. He’s a fairly reactionary individual and not trusting.”

“That does seem to be the reasonable reaction to me these days.”

“Reasonable and reasoned are different things.”

“Now, don’t tell me you’re a philosopher too,” some of Blaise’s flirtatiousness was back.

“I’m many things. Primarily I’m a business person.”

“What business are you in?”

“Finance, the City specifically. Among other things, I have taken it upon myself to shepherd the City’s fledgling economy of the past few centuries. You see, Guardians need very little aside from weapons and transport. But Humanity as a whole needs a great many things and a flourishing economy helps them keep those things in a balance that can be maintained without anyone struggling too much.” Blaise looked both intrigued and prepared to be bored. “But that’s not why I brought you here. As I understand it you want for even less than most Guardians; the Failsafe project in particular will be blessed for your involvement.”

Blaise switched to self effacement immediately. “It’s not a great deal of effort for me, for a great many back up plans.” 

“Fair,” Martellus allowed. “Though a businessman would generally say that the value of a thing is not based on the effort required to produce it but rather on what can be gained in return for it.”

“Well, maybe I wouldn’t make a good businessman.”

“It’s possible. You certainly went all in on Oryx and we are all indebted to you for it.”

“Others went more all in than me,” Blaise continued to deflect.

“And in their case there is no opportunity to repay our debt,” Martellus agreed, somber. “Though we can make some effort at statues and speeches and so on.”

Blaise snorted and smiled, if sadly. “Reier would love that.”


	8. Overwatch, Part 2

Blaise took a moment to center himself and change the subject. “All right. You didn’t call me here for business…” he prompted. 

“No, I called you here largely to meet you, to introduce myself, to take your measure to some degree, and to do two things further. First, to let you know that I am in full support of the eradication of the Hive.” At Blaise’s offer of thanks, Martellus simply nodded and continued. “And my resources, which may or may not be inconsiderable to you, are available for that purpose. Second, to inform you that while I have done business at times with those that dabble in the Dark energies, my personal experiences have led me to believe that it is in the best interests of this system to remove the Dark from it entirely.”

“I can’t say I disagree,” Blaise noted, bland.

“I don’t know the particulars of your situation. I’m not sure that you do either.”

“Pretty sure I don’t.”

“If the lone survivor of Win Count can be preserved and honored as a hero, I would like that very much,” Martellus confessed.

“That help your economy?” Blaise asked, smiling and oddly unsympathetic.

“It helps my soul.”

“Gotcha,” Blaise said, as if he’d come to some conclusion. “Maybe it will encourage you to know, then, that I am not the sole survivor. Ksenir and Nova are both going to make it.”

“Excellent news,” Martellus smiled. “I assume this is a new development since your emergence?”

Nodding, he explained. “Ms. Blake carted in barrels full of orbs of Light. Dunked the Ghosts in it. Their Ghosts were the ones to respond. Once they had enough Light in them that I could see where the Dark was I pulled the Dark out. They pulled them back, close enough to being alive that I’ve been able to work the Dark out of them. It’s slow going; have to be gentle with fleshy folk. I thought about trying to pull the Dark out of the other Ghosts just to see but without knowing where the edges are, I- I didn’t want to pull out their selves with the Dark.”

“I assume you’ve tried doing this outside of the Ascendent Realm?”

“Little scared to take them outside,” Blaise admitted. “Time moves differently, sort of, in the Realm. Decay happens differently. I’m concerned that if I take any of them out, some of that time might catch up with them.”

“Well, Ms. Blake doesn’t spend much time on Earth. There are parts of the EDZ that have splinters of the Traveler scattered about. Many of them are still charged with incredible quantities of Light that are just as mysterious to us as the Traveler itself.”

Something in Blaise relaxed at that. “I’ll talk to Eris about that. Thank you.”

“Certainly. I am glad that you have some help in this endeavor. Contact with the Traveler might prove dangerous to you at this point.”

“Isn’t that our whole job?” Blaise said dismissively. “Stepping into the dangerous places.”

“I would say it’s drawing the line between the dangerous places and the safe ones.”

“Philosopher,” Blaise teased. 

“Pedantic, at the very least,” Martellus smiled, earning a laugh. “Now then. There is, on the Moon,” Blaise’s attention focused again in an instant. “An object. A Pyramid, gigantic, black. The Hive seem to have built a temple around it. It seems to be some sort of opposite to the Traveler.”

“In as much as just one can be,” Blaise agreed, unbothered by the change in subject. “It’s one of many. That one just happens to be broken.”

“Much in the same way as the Traveler is broken?” Martellus asked.

Blaise hesitated. “I don’t know. I don’t think so. I think that one just crashed.”

“You think the impact with the Moon is what broke it rather than the traveler’s action?”

“Dunno,” Blaise shrugged. “Whatever disabled it, it’s stuck enough that it wasn’t able to leave with the others.” 

Martellus hummed thoughtfully. “Well it shows more activity than I’ve seen from the Traveler.”

Blaise’s eyes tightened and he leaned forward, concern written on his face. “What did you see?” he asked, voice quiet and gentle.

“Eris calls them Nightmares. Has she said nothing about it?”

“She hasn’t done a lot of talking.”

“It summons facsimiles of Crota,” Martellus began, and Blaise inhaled sharply. “Omnigul, Skolas, Ghaul, among others. It seems to draw from either the memories of the Guardians it engages with or from the collective memory of the Hive and the Guardians to throw our greatest enemies against us again, though not at their full power.”

“Small mercies,” Blaise breathed. “All right. What else?”

“Eris, whom I must say is a singular case, has been haunted by the fallen of her lost fireteam.” Blaise flinched, stricken. “It is part of the reason she has become so steeped in Hive magic. I helped her gather some… bits from these Nightmares and from the lost that she has used to create a talisman to protect herself from the haunting.”

Blaise made an aborted motion to reach out to Martellus. “Thank you,” he said, and it was the most genuine Silla had ever seen him.

“It was the least I could do for her,” Martellus said. “The Pyramid, which I don’t know to distinguish from the Dark-”

“Semantics,” Blaise shrugged, waving one hand dismissively.

“Seems to be an excellent manipulator,” Blaise nodded emphatic agreement when Martellus paused. “It provided us with a signal that led us into a Vex stronghold. I have yet to learn why. But that leads me to this point: I have to wonder how certain you are that your perception of reality is accurate and uninfluenced.”

“I’m not sure how I could answer that question,” Blaise said warily.

“I don’t expect you to be able to,” Martellus noted, drawing a frown from Blaise. “But I do wonder…” Eventually, Martellus shook his head. “If you went to the Tower and made that splash, it’s likely you’d end up in a box if they could hold you.”

“Ms. Blake could,” Blaise volunteered.

“Could she now?”

“Dunno for how long but she could. Better than Ikora, anyway.”

“Ikora has learned to use the resources of the Tower and the City since you’ve been gone,” Martellus allowed. “But agreed; holding things is not her strength.” 

“No. More smushing them,” Blaise sounded envious.

“But the Tower is not the only active body in the system anymore.”

“Never was,” Blaise frowned.

“No one else is so organized, per se. But if you wanted to seek help in verifying your perceptions… a safe place, even from the Vanguard, to examine your memories for influence. It could be done. I don’t know what kind of schedule you’re working on but if you wanted a debriefing it could happen.” Martellus’ voice was calm and steady. 

“I’m not sure I rightly understand what you’re… describing, offering,” Blaise said slowly.

“Refuge,” he explained. “An opportunity to examine your mind outside of the Ascendent Realm, away from Oryx’ throne. Time to rest, attempt to recover if you feel the need. Again, I have no experience to measure yours against and so I am treating you as a soldier come back from behind enemy lines.”

After a long silence, Blaise said, “I've been sorta forced to hold still for a long, long time. Not ready to hold still some more.”

“Understood,” Martellus nodded.

“You said you helped Eris out on the Moon,” Blaise began, changing the subject.

“A bit. Mostly fetching,” Martellus demurred.

“Was Hashladun your work?” he pried.

“Yes. Yes she was.”

“Well, _damn_ sir,” Blaise beamed. “If you’ll pardon the expression. That was well done.”

“Thank you. She needed killing,” Martellus said, slightly grim.

“That she did,” Blaise agreed, a contemplative expression on his face.

“And while business does occupy most of my time these days, I am a Guardian.” The statement was well-worn and firm and Silla continued to wish she had that confidence of purpose. “And I have had some time to practice being one. I am not only teaching Silla finance, after all,” he said with some humor. Martellus saw the clear hesitation in Blaise’s carriage when Silla came up and continued speaking. “To revisit something I said earlier, Silla’s reaction to you may have some relation to me. It was in the course of my work on the Moon that I encountered the Pyramid myself.”

“It talked to you, didn’t it?” There was nothing but sympathy and concern on Blaise’s face now.

“It did more than talk,” Martellus was grim. “It drew me inside and spoke to me through my Ghost, who stayed with me but was otherwise unavailable to me throughout.”

It took Blaise a moment to collect himself after choking on air. “I am _so_ sorry.”

“That’s what I mean when I say that I will not be repeating that experience. I am not going anywhere that close to that Pyramid ever again, not without some confidence that I can destroy it.”

“To be direct,” Blaise said. “If my current project succeeds, well. Let’s say I consider it a sort of testing ground to see whether we might be able to take on these Pyramids.”

“You think the power of a Hive worm god will be enough to harm them?” Martellus asked, finally getting to the line of questioning that most concerned them.

“What do you mean?” Blaise asked, tilting his head slightly to one side.

“You intend to destroy the Hive worm gods, correct?” Martellus began.

“Yes.”

“And you are familiar with the principles of the Sword Logic?”

“I am,” Blaise agreed. Martellus waited, watching. Blaise frowned, clearly looking for the connection. After fifty-three point two seconds he froze. “ _Oh shit._ ”

Silla dropped her head on the edge of the control board with a thud. Bee began giggling and didn’t stop. This was not the problem they had expected to have at this point but she did not feel relief.

“You-” Martellus broke off and started over. “You mean that really hasn’t occurred to you?” Blaise didn’t respond and Silla looked up to find him staring across the room without really seeing. Edgar drifted closer, visibly concerned. “Well, most of my fears have been dismissed!” Martellus announced, and then there was a decanter in his hand. “Brandy?”

Edgar gently bumped Blaise’s arm when he continued to fail to respond. Still nothing. The Ghost turned to face Martellus. “This may take a moment.”

“Very well. I’ll leave the brandy here. I’ll be there,” he indicated one of the plush conversation areas away from the dining space. 

“Thank you,” Edgar said and turned to watch over his Guardian. They all spent the next ten minutes or so in differing levels of stress. Eventually, Blaise took a boneshakingly deep, croaking breath. Then he pushed it out. Then he looked at Edgar. The man was visibly devastated and, though she wanted to look away, Silla felt she needed to witness the moment- to experience the metaphorical blow with him. She watched as some unspoken communication passed between them and Blaise began to gingerly gather his composure once more. When he stood, Edgar led him to Martellus. 

“I apologize,” Blaise began, hands behind his back. “That hasn’t happened in a long time.” His voice and presentation were starkly different. All of the pageantry was gone. Nearly no inflection, very little variation in pitch. Silla frowned, concerned. Blaise had experienced that level of shock before? 

“Not at all,” Martellus said gently. “Please, make yourself comfortable.”

“No offense intended,” some of his distress broke through the monotone. “But I think that will be a long time coming.”

“I have brandy if that will help,” Martellus noted.

“It would help in discomfiting everyone else,” Blaise shook his head.

“Sometimes that’s enough,” Martellus decided and waved at the frames. Blaise sat, Edgar hovering at his shoulder. When Martellus held out the tumbler, Blaise accepted it and began to drink. Shortly, Martellus had the frames playing some classical piece - brass and strings - and settled in his chair with a thoughtful expression. “I’m afraid I am not familiar with your personal style before you went after Oryx but there have been several advancements in weaponry since. If you’d like to look at an armory sometime, I’d be happy to show you around. I don’t know if diversity is one of Ms. Blake’s strong points or if she’s had an opportunity to show you any of the newer options.”

“It would be good to be up to date,” Blaise said. “Thank you.” Martellus nodded and soon the music was most of what Silla could hear. 

Silla realized, as the silence dragged on, that it bothered her. She would never have expected Nisus Blaise to be so quiet when approaching drunk. It felt wrong. 

Some near-indeterminable time later Blaise opened his mouth and words came out. “I’m afraid I’m not the best company when recognizing my own stupidity. Shall I leave you be?”

“You’re not a bother. I do have some work to attend to but the ship is in a stable orbit; I can leave you here if you like. I know that a chance to rest is sometimes hard to come by.” 

“I appreciate the offer but I- I would prefer to be somewhere that I can break things without feeling guilty about it,” Blaise stood.

“Perfectly understandable. When Soren’s back I’ll have him get in touch with Ms. Blake to make an appointment with you for a tour of my armory.”

Both Blaise and Edgar nodded. Blaise began to turn, then hesitated. “I’ll go change, then.”

“If you’d like but it is a gift. Take it,” Martellus said, gesturing. “Along with the decanter.” For some reason that seemed to confuse Blaise and he fumbled briefly before he managed to express gratitude. “Certainly. It’s not a statue but it might be more use to you.”

Blaise just managed to summon something resembling a smile at the reference. “Thank you for this evening. I’ve had a lovely time. Good night.” The pair vanished in a shower of transmat sparks.


	9. Reevaluation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reevaluation aboard The Revelation /chant
> 
> Look, I'm in a mood. Don't mind me.
> 
> Enjoy!

After a few moments, another shower of transmat sparks heralded Martellus’ arrival aboard The Revelation. “Well,” he said. “That’s what we have to work with.”

Silla finished powering down the ship’s weapons and the spy channels before turning to face her mentor. It took a moment of fidgeting for her to find the words she wanted. “I don’t think I’m like him.”

“I’m glad,” Martellus said, lowering himself into a chair.

“How did Win Count survive as long as they did?” Even to her own ears she sounded bewildered.

“They had Ghosts,” he said, sounding tired. “That’s generally how most Guardians do it. Some of them would be more effective if they simply strapped explosives to themselves.”

“You’re not wrong,” she groaned, rubbing her hands over her face and the shaved sides of her head. Turning, Silla played back the moment Nisus recognized what he did and the following minutes of panic. “Looks genuine to me.”

“It certainly seems genuine in the moment,” Martellus agreed.

“But?”

“I’m a little bit incredulous that someone could sit in Oryx’ Ascendent Realm, read the Tablets of Ruin, and not understand that he was acting within the patterns of the Sword Logic, that the Realm was constructing according to those patterns, and that he was acting within their purview.”

“From what I can see of him, he doesn’t do a lot of introspection or slowing down long enough to really look at a situation. He reacts and his instincts are good, so that’s worked for him so far. This, though,” Silla worked her jaw. “This looks like a survival mechanism.”

“This?”

“Not recognizing what the Sword Logic means in this context.”

“Ah,” he sighed. “Closing your eyes to be able to swallow what you’re eating.”

“Exactly. He’s afraid. And so he’s not looking at the bright thing or the dark thing so that he doesn’t have to see what has happened.”

“Mm. Well, he should be afraid. He has invited attention that I don’t think he actually wants. He’s placed himself on a stage with Savathun and Xivu Arath.”

“He is working to shift that stage,” Silla pointed out.

“Yes, to the three waiting in the wings. And who knows what other players are on that stage that we know nothing of!”

“But the only way this works, the only way we can defeat Savathun and Xivu Arath now that they know we’re coming is if we take out the worms first,” Silla said.

“There is not yet a we. There is only the remains of what attacked Oryx, trapped within his Throne World, until he reveals himself otherwise.”

Recognizing that she’d left something out, Silla explained. “I’ve already talked to Vice about the fireteam. I’m signing on.”

“Good,” Martellus sounded like he meant it. “What I meant by that is from their perspective there is not yet a we. From the perspective of the enemy there is not yet a we, there is not yet organization, there is not yet a plan. There is only the one who killed Oryx.”

“So… why didn’t they attack once the Realm closed? What do they get out of this?”

“A chance at Oryx’ power,” he mused. Recognizing that he was thinking carefully, Silla settled in to wait. “I see several options,” he said after a while. “The first being, that he’ll keep. He is a Guardian, nowhere near the equal of Oryx on his own. There is simply no way he’ll be able to control the Realm to escape. He’ll keep. In the meantime, they can make their plans.”

“But they left him with the Tablets,” Silla began, then paused. “I suppose they didn’t think a Guardian could master them.”

“The Light and the Dark are antithetical according to everything we know. They may know better than us; I don’t know what their experience has been. But one option is they believed he would keep, that that problem could wait while they addressed the rest of the Guardians. Second option being Oryx was just killed. This calls for caution, observation, patience.”

“That’s consistent with Savathun’s style. From what we understand it’s not Xivu Arath’s style but,” she corrected herself. “We have no indication of, no evidence of Xivu Arath’s presence/influence in the system. We only have evidence of Savathun’s.”

“Correct. “

“So it could just be that Xivu Arath is too far away.”

“While that’s true, Oryx was the strongest and we don’t know who has the upper hand between the remaining two. Savathun may have the upper hand, in which case it is likely that we’ll see Xivu Arath first but not until Savathun is ready. A third option would be that they fully expect Oryx to return. According to the World’s Grave they have all of them died more than once.”

“So they’re waiting.”

“Potentially.”

“Seems to be the common thread between all of these ideas.”

“Remember that the Hive have attempted to summon Savathun several times. It is possible that they are tearing towards us with all possible speed. I don’t know how far away they are and what it would take to cross that gap.”

“Theoreticals aside,” Silla decided. “We have the practical: keep Nisus Blaise alive. It’s the only way we can control where Oryx’ power is pointed as well as who is, more or less, at the helm.”

“There is another way, but it is distasteful,” Martellus pulled a face. “Even if we don’t choose to use Oryx’ power, I would prefer that who has it be something we know and that person be someone we can influence if not control.”

“He’s been entirely biddable according to everything Blake has been giving me. He doesn’t ask her a lot of questions. He trusts her to have the plans.”

“In other words he’s in a hurry. Or he’s a fool.”

“I think it’s both,” Silla sighed. “Plus I think he’s noticed he’s not good at plans.”

“There has been some indication that he chose Ms. Blake.”

“Yes. He said as much, or nearly.”

“I don’t know how careful his observations were before he made that decision but…”

“He wouldn’t have been able to see much of her before however she encountered whatever this artifact is,” Silla mused. “Which- I have some ideas, but nothing solid.”

“At any rate,” Martellus drew them back on task. “I do believe we can trust at least the intentions of Nisus Blaise if not his judgment.”

Silla nodded. “We’ll work on it. And by that I mean me and whoever else is there,” she shrugged, very aware that Blaise and Blake had their own strategies.

“Sorry?”

“We’ll work on it,” she repeated.

“On his judgment?”

Silla’s lips twitched. “On whether or not he gets to act on his own recognizance.”


	10. Lost at Sea

Nisus stepped into the Ascendant Realm and stopped, head down, hands fisted. With all the Hive had taken from him, why not his self too? Why not his entire actual identity? Why not?

“-ack. Please, hear me. You have to breathe!” Edgar’s voice came to him.

“‘m breathin’,” he mumbled, shaking himself. “Calm down.”

“Nisus,” Edgar said, voice flanging. “Look around you and tell me that I’m the one who needs to calm down.”

Blinking, Nisus raised his head. The space immediately around him was… Warped? As if something had impacted the Realm hard enough to cause ripples in the material of the ground, walls, ceiling. The epicenter was- Air punched out of him. He was the epicenter.

“Edgar,” Nisus’ arms came up as if to ward reality away. “Edgar.”

“I’m here,” the Ghost said.

“I-” he struggled. “I mantled Oryx.”

“...Yes, I think we did,” Edgar agreed, quiet and bleak.

We. That one little word brought Nisus back from the brink of he knew not what. Edgar was his best friend, half of his soul, made of Light but still with him even now. 

Taking a deep breath, Nisus reached out intentionally and touched the material of the space. Malleable. Decided, he thickened the walls, floor, and ceiling of the room, eliminating all windows and doors in the process. Edgar spun round in a circle. “Are you doing that?”

“Yes,” Nisus rasped. “I wanted to break things, didn’t I? Can’t break things in a way that endangers the others. Have to isolate the threat.”

“Threat? Nisus, you are-”

“ORYX,” Nisus bellowed, whirling to face him. 

Edgar paused. “That’s not really how it-”

“Edgar,” Nisus held up a hand to stop him. “Let me get this outside of me,” he begged. “If I have to have him in me, at least let me get the emotions out. And if I hurt myself in the process? Let it be till I’m done. Let me feel.”

The Ghost tilted briefly before gently nudging Nisus’ shoulder. “I’m here. I’ll be here. I’ll wait for you to say when you’re done.”

“Thank you,” he managed as Edgar slipped into transmaterial matter. Then Nisus stood, eyes fixed on the ground with his shoulders heaving. His jaw and fists clenched and unclenched. The walls pulsed in time. 

It happened both slowly and all at once. He looked within himself for the churning, writhing vitality of his heartbreak and when he found it he parted his lips. Something that he thought might be dark matter bubbled up and began to whirl around him. It was only as it began to form actual bubbles and spheres that he recognized it: Blight. Then Nisus broke. 

Rage. 

Pain. 

Fury. 

Despair. 

Wrath. 

Anguish. 

Fear.

Company?

The maelstrom-once-called-Oryx (King, Navigator, Auryx, Aurash, Nisus, Blaise; deeper still: an other and perhaps billions more) turned, as into the space stepped one-who-had-Taken. 

“What the hell are you doing?” the woman demanded, her soul sparking in the curls of her hair, her eyes, her hands. He observed the radiance peacefully for a time. “Well?” She snapped her fingers in front of his face. He frowned and turned away from the glow.

“Ms. Blake, please do not interrupt-” An allied soul, trusted beyond death, spoke. He knew then that all would be handled without need of him. He could return to himself.

“Edgar, get out of my way. Blaise! What do you think-”

“Ms. Blake, this is a very delicate-”

“I don’t care how delicate it is! Do you know how much attention he’s getting right now?” 

“Blake,” Edgar barked, and his voice was angry. 

He would have turned to support his allied soul but the woman stepped in front of him, drawing far closer than he wanted. 

“Hey! Reel it in, imbecile! Do you have any idea what kind of eyes you’ve-”

Reel he did, but it was away from her. Eyes? Let them use their ears. 

He rent a tear through the fabric of the reality of High War so that he could step onto the shore of the Sea of Screams. Into the Sea’s rhythmic embrace he screamed his defiance for the tides to carry. It took some time for his defiance (fear, anger, pain) to find satisfaction in its expression but he was not interrupted again. After silence had fallen and the fabric was woven back together he turned to find the glinting Taker still near him.

“You done?” she asked, unmoved, callous. Her lack of fear, her cool impassivity drew memories closer: a flensing, trusted voice that carved and honed him toward their matching goals. 

He reexamined her soul for familiarity and found that it was one known to him; he had tasted it in Void and orbs of Light. “Emma Blake,” he said, remembering.

Something in her scrutiny shifted. “Nisus Blaise.”

Emma Blake was one-who-named. He shifted. “Yes.”

“You want to tell me what prompted this bit of untidiness?” 

He peered at her, perplexed. “Untidiness? Clarify.”

Emma Blake’s eyes somehow made a circuit of their sockets without the convergence of her observations shifting away from himself. “You turning up incensed and manifold.”

Now she described him; perhaps he should kill her. 

He shook his head, unbalanced, wondering why that thought had happened, let alone turned out the way it did. “I-” He shook his head again. “What? I- Edgar?”

“I’m here, Nisus. Can you center yourself for me?” The allied soul’s voice was Edgar’s, he realized, frowning. How had he forgotten who Edgar was? Something was wrong; he needed to do what Edgar said.

Squaring his feet with his shoulders, dropping his awareness to his center of gravity, he breathed deliberately and intentionally to fill that space. With each breath he filled his center with air, and emptied it. When his head felt less muddled, he looked up. 

Edgar gently bumped his shoulder. “How are you feeling?”

“Less at sea,” Nisus said. “Kinda achey.”

“So you’re done now?” Blake asked, bland.

“I think,” he agreed.

“Cool,” she said; she didn’t think it was. “Then we can get back to my question: what the fuck, Blaise?” She didn’t wait for him to respond. “Do you have any idea how many Ascendant fuckers you just showed yourself to?”

“Didn’t leave here,” he responded. “That was High War’s beach, not open access.”

Her jaw came forward and she snarled something under her breath. “Cool.” It still didn’t sound like she thought so. “Then what brought this whole frenzy on?”

“Oh,” Nisus shuddered, the day returning to him. “Turns out I mantled Oryx.”

Blake glared at him expectantly, as if she thought there was more. Slowly, her glare shifted to dismay and then a blank canvas. Bland again, she began, “I can tell you’re upset,” and Nisus felt a sudden hope that she knew how to console him. “So I’m going to walk away now and laugh in another room. Edgar, get him out of that suit before he ruins it.” She turned and teleported; the smell of the Void and Nisus’ swaying shock left behind.


	11. Alliance

Silla was napping in her cabin when Bee woke her with the words, “The Shadowkeep is collapsing.” By the time they made it to the Moon, Silla had thought to check the time. At best guess, it had been ten hours between Nisus’ revelation and Bee’s alert.

It wasn’t long before Martellus joined her on the large hill she’d chosen as her post. Silla had managed to get all Vanguard teams to clear the area with little more than a reference to Clutch shenanigans. She’d come up with some lie to feed Ikora later. She’d probably need to warn Vice. Meantime she kept an eye on Nisus through her scope, only firing rarely. He didn’t need the help, it turned out.

When the majority of the above ground structures were little more than a wall here or there and nothing had exploded in a while, Silla left Bee with Martellus and headed down to scout things out. She paced the edge of a crater for a time, looking down. Wreckage and the Hive blood equivalent everywhere. The whole place smelled like Void. Sensing something approaching Light, she dropped down several levels and found Nisus Blaise draped face-up across the remains of an altar. He’d lost his helmet somewhere.

“Ms. Faer,” he said, not looking up. 

She paused a moment, looking him over. He looked even more unwell than she had anticipated. “Come on, Warlock,” she said, moving to the altar and crouching beside him. “At least give yourself a Rift.”

“Can’t,” he groaned. “Dark’s not gone yet.”

“Orbs help?”

“Yeah. What, I look that bad?”

“You really do,” she said gently, lobbing an orb into his leg. “And I don’t know how long we can take. You should have a few more hours before anyone in the Vanguard comes looking but I never know what Zavala’s going to do. Most folks know to stay clear of my shenanigans. Might need some help coming up with a feasible lie to feed Ikora in my “report” to cover for you though.” She held an orb to his hand and watched it dissolve.

He lifted his head to look at her. “That’s the most you’ve ever said to me.”

Silla winced. “It was pointed out to me that I was the only one being aggressive and that perhaps it wasn’t warranted. I’m… sorry.” She offered another orb. 

Nisus managed something approaching a smile and dropped his head back down on the altar, swiping at the orb. “Accepted and forgiven. I like to think I’d do the same.” He was silent a bit before he sniffed. “You have shenanigans?”

“Mostly in the EDZ and the Leviathan, but yeah. My fireteam, uh, former fireteam used to pull a few pranks.”

He turned enough to point one eye at her. “Former?”

“Clutch started falling apart the moment I benched Lishan,” she admitted and tossed another orb at him. “And she’ll stick by you so she won’t be coming back. Three of the team are sticking together to run Vanguard strikes. Leaves me free to help out with the worms if you’ll have me.”

Nisus held up a hand and she shook it. “I wasn’t planning on doing this without you, if I’m honest,” he said, surprising her.

“Oh!” With her tone and posture she let him see he’d affected her. “Well. Maybe you’ll tolerate me keeping an eye on you at times like this then.”

“Danger to myself?”

“There were three different fireteams getting ready to come down here when I showed up and told them to keep clear,” she explained. “I still don’t know if any of them got any footage of you that Ikora could recognize.”

“Didn’t think about that,” he admitted. “Really just wanted to break something.”

Silla took a deep breath. “I need to confess something.”

“If you’re about to tell me you’ve slept with my kid-”

She broke down laughing before she could stop herself. “I should be so lucky. No, she never gave me a second glance.”

“Damn. She didn’t get her taste in women from me,” he muttered. 

Silla flushed in her helmet but didn’t respond to that. “I have recorded every interaction with you that I’ve been present for and left bugs any time I left the situation.”

“Seems reasonable,” he said easily. 

“And I ran overwatch for your meeting with the Gentleman so I… heard everything.”

“Mm. That’s good. His Ghost was with you, then?”

“Yes. Martellus is the one who taught me to keep Ghosts safe, especially after what happened to Soren at the Pyramid.”

“Well. Glad someone was being paranoid and checking everything before taking a side. And thanks for telling me. You still going to do all of that?”

“I was planning on continuing to record things that I’m there for,” she said. “I do that most of the time. Got into the habit so that I could better analyze the Vanguard and keep an eye out for Shadows of Yor since some of my associates are in their wheelhouse.” 

He pantomimed throwing up off the side of the altar. “I can’t believe that bullshit.”

She smiled faintly. “I’m pretty sure it’s a set up.”

Nisus groaned again. “What is it with all the cloak and dagger these days?”

“We have made it pretty clear that we can’t be beaten in a direct confrontation,” she pointed out. “If I wanted to destroy the Vanguard or the Last City or both, I would definitely work from the shadows to do it.”

He turned to look at her again. “You seriously just thought through how to handle the Vanguard and City?”

Silla shrugged. “Not like it’s the first time I’ve done it. It’s how I decide how to help: I find the weaknesses I would exploit and try to shore those up.”

“You really are terrifying,” Nisus said. She shrugged again and resumed tossing orbs at him. “You must think I’m the biggest idiot to ever live,” he sighed. 

“I don’t, actually,” she said quietly. “I think that might be Shry.”

He shook a finger at her. “Do not insult her in front of me. I will not stand for it.”

“Good thing you’re not standing, then.”

“Oh, fuck off,” Nisus moaned but he sounded pleased. His head thudded back on the altar.

“Look, was I surprised you weren’t thinking about how the Sword Logic dictates that the one to kill an Ascendant soul is their replacement when you decided to go after the Hive gods? Yes, I was. Did it seem like a very serious oversight? Absolutely. But I get it,” Silla sighed. “You’re too close. You think about Oryx’ death and it doesn’t feel like a victory to you because all you can see are your friends who didn’t make it so you never thought of it as winning. You didn’t think your ability to read, understand, and use the Tablets of Ruin came from Oryx; you thought it was because you can read. You didn’t think your ability to use his Throne to see came from Oryx; you thought it was because you sat in the chair.”

“While it is nice to be understood,” he said slowly. “None of this makes you less terrifying.”

Unsure why that bothered her, she produced her rifle and shoved it onto his chest. “I used this to watch you for hours just now and you’re not dead. Killing you has never been my goal, Blaise. I’ve only ever meant to protect the people I care about. And now? I’m on your team. I’m here to help you survive and succeed. Your enemies are the ones who need to worry about fearing me, not you.”

Nisus finally sat up and turned the gun over in his hands, looking it over before he looked up at her. “You mean me to believe that you never meant to kill me?”

Silla sighed and dropped from her crouch to sit on her knees on the dais, practically at his feet. She pulled off her helmet and ran a hand over her braid before meeting his eyes. “If I were going to kill you, I would have done it already,” she said. “And I’d have killed Edgar as soon as he came out to bring you back.”

He stared down at her with her rifle in his hands.

“I don’t do things halfway, Blaise. I wanted you afraid of me because if you tried to kill me first the others would have time to shut you down. I wanted you to attack me instead of them. I wanted you afraid of me because I was afraid of you. I- I’m-” she shook herself and forced herself to look up again. “You were very close to the truth when you suggested that you were my worst nightmare. Me, in your situation, is my worst nightmare. I can’t put into words how afraid I am of all of this. I never wanted _you_ dead. I wanted to kill what I was afraid of. I was reacting to myself more than to you and that’s not fair to you. I’m sorry.”

Nisus was silent for a long time, looking at her. She didn’t move or try to look away. “And what do you want now?”

“I want to have a fighting chance against that Pyramid. I want to be sure no one goes through what Soren and Martellus went through. I want you to _win_.”

Without a word he offered her her rifle. She took it and put it away without breaking eye contact. “I don’t think I could tell if you were lying even if I knew you better,” he sighed finally. Silla winced. “But you don’t have a reputation for being a liar. This kind of awareness, introspection, and analysis is a necessity for actually fighting Xol. I’m going to tell you something, though, and you’re going to pay attention.” She nodded. “You _ever_ mention going after Edgar again, to anyone, let alone try it, and you’ll find out what I’m really capable of. Understand me?”

“I do,” she said without hesitating. 

Nisus shook his head and pushed himself to his feet. “Well, if that’s done, I think you wanted me to get out of here. Edgar,” he called and the Ghost appeared. “Send Ms. Faer the necessary information for finding us, please. Any chance Ikora would believe you’ve been here often enough to set up explosives?”

“My dad considers her a dear friend. She knows that he would have taught me how to chain explosives for best effect,” she said. 

“You are inconveniently competent. Let’s see what Ms. Blake can give us.”


	12. Take

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now for something a little different...

After spending a sleep cycle on his jumpship, Nisus returned to the Throne World with cold determination. It took only a moment to find Eris, still with Ksenir and Nova. Some of the tension bled out of him as he looked over them for a time. Eventually, he knew what to say. “Eris, do you think remaining in the Realm is supporting or hindering their progress?”

She turned to look at him, considering. “If it did either, I would assume it would hinder.”

“Do you have a ship large enough to support all three of you or shall I see what I can find?”

“My ship will do.”

He carried Ksenir from the Realm to Eris’ ship and gently laid her out across the cot Eris indicated, Nova already on the other. Sighing, he turned to face Eris again. “I’m going to address the Throne. I’ll contact you when things are settled.”

“Good,” was all she said.

Nisus returned to the realm and rounded up Blake. “Ms. Blake, did you leave anything out when you walked me through Taking? Anything at all?”

She looked up from her datapads, frowning. “No. Why?”

He smiled thinly and ignored the question. “I’m preparing to address the Throne. I need you to clear out until we’ve sorted ourselves out.”

“The Throne isn’t sentient, you know,” she said as she collected her things.

“Is an individual Vex Goblin sentient?” he asked, leaving the room. “You have twenty minutes.” He rounded the corner and heard her call out to Edgar.

“Be careful. I don’t know what this will do to you.”

“Anything that strengthens one of us, strengthens the other as well,” Edgar said simply.

“You know it isn’t that easy,” she countered. 

“Your time is ticking, Ms. Blake,” Edgar said mildly. He met Nisus and nodded. The moment he was certain Emma had left, Nisus took several deep breaths, sat down on the Throne, and reached into the Void. He didn’t expect the Void to reach back but he could all but taste it. 

If he had truly stepped into Oryx’ place as evidenced by the Deep answering at his call, if he were truly now the one with the crown of the Taken King, then it would be fully within the ambit of his ability and authority to Take Oryx’ portion of Ascendant Realm for himself. Furthermore, if he understood Ms. Blake’s treatise on Taking as well as he believed he did, then his personal adaptations and… flair should integrate seamlessly. 

Once he had every horizon and borderline of the Throne Universe and all in between within his focus he drew it all in like bringing together the edges of a cloth and gathered it within his metaphysical hands; then he formed his hands into a pair of jaws. The jaws closed around the plane, and himself within it. Before him appeared an orb of raw energy and space-time, rippling with something like Blight. 

“High War,” he named it and described it at once and beckoned. It came to him. “You I have Taken. You are infinite and sharpened and empty, without purpose. What will you become? To you I offer this: a place in the middle. Greater defensive strength. Formidable offensive strength. The versatility to adapt. The capacity to hold an Oversoul, perhaps to become one. All I ask is that you choose me, serve me.”

A profound sense of acceptance washed over him. _Take._

Nisus smirked. “Oh, honey. You don’t know how happy you’ve made me.”

From the Void around them bent equal measures of Light and Dark, swirling round and around the orb that used to be High War. 

“You are High War no longer,” he told it, gentle in his declaration. “Now? You are my Take.”

His Take pulsed before him, writhing in its changes but glad. _Take,_ it agreed. 

Nisus lingered, bearing witness to the effort it took for Take to adapt to his requirements and gifts. After eternities and heartbeats Take stilled and looked to him for guidance. “Good work,” he said, smiling. Take preened under his attention. “I want to see what you’ve done with the place.”

When he opened his eyes in his physical body, Nisus stood from the Throne and looked around. Gone was the Hive gunk and Dark. Instead the Realm was different shades of gray, with edging of black or white in different places. 

The Throne itself resonated with his own energies, currently gray and shadowy. Still the Tablets of Ruin sat beneath it. Two small pedestals stood to either side of the throne. Over one hovered Edgar. On the other was a stack of new tablets. Behind the Throne was another dais, each of the silent Ghosts on pedestals with curtains concealing the bodies of his teammates. 

Nearby there was something of a laboratory space with carefully organized drawers of tools, talismans, and reagents. Into the walls of the laboratory were carved the contents of various ritual tablets, affinity tables, and star charts. Past the laboratory was an archive with plenty of space for expansion. 

There were a number of chambers along one horizon that he somehow knew were meant to be rooms for his various allies. Beyond them was a series of chambers he knew Take meant to be his. Further beyond still was a chamber with such defenses upon it that he knew it was meant to hold the Oversoul. His Oversoul.

None of it held any Blight at all.

“Edgar?”

“The Realm is now fully aligned with your energy signatures.”

“And yourself?”

“Unchanged outside of capacity of energy draw to time ratios.”

Relieved, Nisus nodded. “What are these tablets, Take?” He moved to the pedestal, and heard an echo. _Take._ “They’re you?” He picked up the first and frowned. “This is a ritual,” he said, glancing through the rest. “I don’t recognize it. Souls?” He sensed dissatisfaction and looked through them again. 

“I believe this is in reference to Oversouls,” Edgar said from over his shoulder.

“Fantastic,” he breathed. “Thanks, Take.” Nisus collected the tablets and headed through the layers of chambers until he found a fully circular room with runes covering every inch of every surface. “Look through this, Edgar. This is going to have a profound effect on you.” While Edgar went through the tablets, Nisus went round and round the room, inspecting the runes. 

Most of them were protective wards, some invoked curses on those who entered without permission or with intent to do harm. The runes were not solely Hive runes either. A number of them were based in ancient Earth cultures. Some were Awoken. Some were more like computer code than written language. The structures that weren’t wards or curses tended to be meant to empower or stabilize the Oversoul. 

“Sir, this is acceptable. There’s already a clause in the seventh tablet to create space for what it calls “fragmented shards” of the soul. It should account for me quite nicely.”

“Well done,” he said, both to Edgar and Take. “Shall we?”

He went to the center of the room and drew orbs of Light from one pocket and sent them to various points around the room before doing the same with motes of Dark. With a glance, he determined that the tablets were made up of the same stuff as the Throne and as such he could take hold of them without the use of hands. He scattered them in order in a circle around himself as Edgar came to hover over his head. He lifted himself and the tablets into the air until they were fully in the three dimensional center of the space and paused just to breathe. 

“Nisus?”

“Big changes, Edgar. Remembering that we never wanted this.” With that admission, he turned to the first tablet. “Everyone ready?”

“Yes sir,” Edgar said quietly. Take pulsed around them. 

Nisus Blaise breathed and began. 

Time ceased to have meaning first. 

Then space. 

Then sight, smell, touch. 

There was only sound. 

The Oversoul was created first by Deathsingers, twin daughters of Oryx. It only made sense that the ritual itself was a song. A dirge, for the Oversoul was thousands upon thousands of lives and deaths, each hidden within themselves. 

Nisus wondered how many times he’d died so far. Nisus wondered if he would ever not hear the song when he closed his eyes. 

When the song ended, he missed it. 

When his feet touched the ground, he wept. 

Nisus bent over his knees upon the runed floor and grieved everything Oryx and his get had taken from him. So many friends he grieved. He grieved himself. He grieved Edgar. He grieved the years he’d spent alone when he could have Taken the realm to begin with. 

His tears spread across the floor and filled in rune after rune. 

When he stood, he refused to look at the soul above his head. Tears still streaming down his face, he gathered the tablets and carried them back to their pedestal. Nisus stood among his fallen friends: Jules and Mo, Lehi and Cat, Lech and Sauce, Reier and Zipper. 

Fury built within him as he began to comprehend that Oryx had life remaining to him. 

_Take?_

Nisus turned towards Take’s voice to find a cage of sorts against one wall; in it was Willbreaker. Next to it, the Calcified Fragments Eris had passed to him were arranged as if they were puzzle pieces. The image revealed was of another weapon, some rifle, and where the rifle’s firing mechanism should have been there was a sort of gyroscope with the centermost Fragments fused together and suspended within. Nisus stared, wishing Eris hadn’t given him these damn Fragments. They held only malice and the faintest outline of wings. 

“Has that sword been in here this whole time?” he asked. 

“I do not recall ever having seen it during our internment,” Edgar said slowly. “But I cannot imagine how it could have been anywhere else.”

“How many back up plans did you have?” Nisus mused, striding to the cage. “And just how dumb do you think I am?” Take shifted around him and the cage was gone, leaving the sword as it was. “I killed you. I beat you. You’re dead. And you think to ignore your death long enough to live again because I’ll be crazy enough to take all these cute little crunchy things and turn them into some gun?”

It had been a very long time since Nisus had let himself get heated. He rather thought it was an appropriate time to give in.

Nisus’ entire being broke into flames just long enough for a bit of soot to fall before passing so far beyond that the light exuding from him did not allow for the perception of so faint an image as a flame.

“Let’s see how Willbreaker likes _my_ hand, shall we?”

The moment his hand brushed the guard, the entire sword simply crumbled away to reveal a sort of crystal hidden within. The crystal hovered, ignoring gravity all on its own. Or it would have, if it hadn’t been within Nisus’ Throne. Nisus caught it in his hand without fear and turned it this way and that. 

“This isn’t even ugly, old bat,” he noted. Nisus considered the crystal for a time but shrugged in the end. “Not impressed. Kinda bored. I think I’m going to try something I’ve always been curious about.”

“Which curiosity is it this time?” Edgar asked, wary. 

“Just gonna see what the upper limit of my temperature is, old friend. Take can handle it.” The Throne pitched briefly before balancing and Nisus found himself standing in a room devoid of things that might melt. “Darling, you are a marvel,” he grinned, blowing a kiss at the wall and hoping Take understood. He got the impression it was amused. “Now then. Time to work the billows.”

The dumb crystal melted long before he had exerted himself and the fragments were gel not long after. He was disappointed until he considered that he had yet to force either to gas. As he wasn’t exactly interested in breathing a puddle of moist Oryx, Nisus moved a bit away and then began to exert himself. Eventually even the moisture cooked off and there was only the slag waste left behind. Idly wishing he’d brought Edgar with him to measure his temperature, Nisus decided to clean up. 

He flipped over to Void without cooling down much, if at all. The walls, floor, and ceiling of the room cracked and bowed toward him just long enough for his eyes to bug out before Take fixed it. Nisus rapidly reeled his Light back in, tamped down on the expression of power, and ran a Vortex around the room to pick up the dust, rubble, and slag. 

Nisus returned to the main hall and Edgar appeared at his shoulder. “Results?” the Ghost asked.

“Somewhat inconclusive as I didn’t think to take a thermometer in there with me. How do you like the idea of charred-Oryx-flavored space dust?”

“I do not like considering the taste of space dust at all, let alone when influenced by Oryx,” Edgar decided. “But it seems fitting somehow. Perhaps one day a speck of Oryx Dust will become something beautiful and we can break that too.”

Nisus guffawed, delighted. “Today’s a great day. You’re the best.”

“Today’s not over, I’m afraid,” Edgar began. Nisus sprawled across the Throne and gestured for him to continue. “There is the matter of any Oversoul Oryx might possess.” Nisus sobered in an instant, tilting his head. He could just barely sense an echo.

“Take? Open up. It’s time to say hello.”

The Realm opened and spilled out into the Dreadnaught’s throne room, Nisus’ throne replacing Oryx’ even there. 

“Once more into the breach, Edgar,” Nisus growled, settling into his Throne.

“Very good, sir.” Edgar was mocking him, but Nisus thought he liked it.

Nisus raised his chin. He reached for the Void and when it reached back he took its hand. He bent their focus to the Dreadnaught itself. “Edgar, if our friends are not clear, tell them to get.”

“Done. They will be fully clear of the rings shortly.”

Returning his attention to the ship within which he sat, Nisus began forming the jaws of Taking around the ship. 

“You are receiving a call from Ms. Blake,” Edgar noted with humor.

“Ms. Blake,” Nisus said when Edgar connected the line. “I’m afraid I have my hands full at the moment. Could you make this quick?”

“The fuck are you doing?” she sounded frantic. “The Dreadnaught-”

“Is in and of itself Oryx’ Oversoul, Ms. Blake.” Nisus’ voice was sinuous and deadly. “We have unfinished business, he and I.”

She was quiet a long time, though he could hear her breathing. In the meantime, he finished forming the jaws. “If- Blaise, I need you to win this.”

“I will, Ms. Blake,” he said in the same voice. “If I cannot Take his Oversoul, I can use my own to fully sunder every atom of this ship.”

He could almost feel her understand. “I’ll get some popcorn, then,” she said. “Have fun.” The call ended.

Smiling, he and the Void twisted shut the jaws of Taking. When the coiling distortion of Oryx’ Oversoul appeared, he beckoned it to him. He had no intention of being polite this time, just as he had no intention of Taking Oryx for keeps. This? This was revenge.

“Oryx. You’re disembodied, homeless, alone. I have Taken you. To you I offer this: new meaning and a different sort of sharpening.”

While the soul before him deliberated, Nisus reached for Take. _The Dreadnaught is yours for the moment. Take it._

“You cannot Take me,” the soul hissed. “My will conquers all.” There was a weight to Oryx’ words that Nisus somehow knew better than to ignore.

“Obviously false, darling, as we are sitting here now. Try again.” He leaned on his fist, elbow resting on the arm of the Throne. 

“You took my son, my throne, and now you think to take me? Your teeth are too short.”

Nisus laughed. “Is “no” your final answer, father of the dead?”

Oryx roared. “Your will shall falter before the might of the Hive!”

“It’s a yes or no question, sweetheart,” Nisus pointed out, feigning boredom. 

“Never!” The soul bellowed. 

“Excellent,” Nisus hissed, grinning. “Let’s see what I can do, shall we?”

The Void spiraled twice around Oryx’ Oversoul before Nisus compelled it to crush. Oryx’ soul was not a power source to surrender uncontested. If he would not be Taken willingly, perhaps he could be repurposed. If not, then they would see about the Dreadnaught. 

When Nisus was certain that Oryx was a shade or seven beyond uncomfortable and approaching agony, he reached forward and hooked his own power around the soul and ripped. Oryx screamed at him and said something in a language Nisus did not know. When nothing happened Oryx snarled and Nisus smiled.

“You begin to comprehend, I think. How does it feel, dearest? Crota is dead, Nokris is dead, the twins are dead, Alak-Hul is dead, your nieces and nephew are dead or imprisoned. Your sisters have fucked off to who knows where. The Taken have no King. The Dreadnaught does not answer your call. Where is your victory? Where is your sting? Where are _your_ teeth?”

Oryx roared and Nisus ripped at him a few more times because he could. Then, he summoned the jaws again. “NO!” the soul howled. 

“Mm. I think yes, actually.” Nisus decided, and closed the jaws again. The soul appeared before him again, and he smiled to see that it was now unable to move or speak. Out of respect for Ms. Blake’s concerns, Nisus formed and closed the jaws around the soul a third time. Again, Nisus reached into the Void and this time summoned only Light. Oryx was unable to fight and the Light consumed him. Slowly. It was a delight to watch.

When nothing of Oryx was left in the Light, Nisus beckoned Edgar over. “How would you like to have all that Light?”

“Sir?” Edgar’s optical lens flared. “Me?”

“I owe you a great deal more than just a small mountain of Light, Edgar.”

“There are no debts between us, Nisus,” Edgar insisted. “We’re partners.”

“And I actively hurt you when I manipulate the dark. I’d prefer to give you some cushion against that and I can’t think of a better use for what’s left of that old bat.”

Edgar studied him. “I would be honored,” he decided. 

Nisus smiled, and gestured toward the Light. “Have at it.”

While Edgar wallowed in Light, Nisus stood and turned his face into his Throne. _Thank you for your assistance. Please release the Dreadnaught now. I’d prefer not to tie you to physical things if I can avoid it. Is that acceptable to you?_ In answer, Take withdrew from the Dreadnaught, though somehow the throne on the Dreadnaught remained Nisus’ rather than Oryx’.


	13. A Shadow and A Shade

Before Silla had returned to act as overwatch for Martellus, she had spent nearly two whole weeks in Martellus’ library. At first, her only goal was to get an idea of what was available, then she’d done some careful prioritization. Her first topic of study was resource management and logistics. From there she moved on to combined, effects-based, integrated, special, and unified operations, as well as military doctrine and unit cohesion. 

When she left, she took a fair number of copied files with her covering the earlier topics of study, aerospace control, asymmetric warfare, camouflage, command, decision making and the use of mathematical models in such, guerrilla and counter-guerrilla warfare, infiltration, leadership, logistics, foreign relations, military center of gravity, preemption, psychology, sharpshooting, social exchange theory, stealth technology, strategy, swordplay, tactics, and terrain study. While aware that she was likely going overboard, given the nature of the goals before her she was uncertain when she would be able to return to the library and acted accordingly. 

Now, sitting across a tea spread from Martellus, “I have some questions.” 

“I am pleased to respond,” Martellus looked up from his reading. 

“At first, you and I worked together as Shadows. Then we worked together as a mentor and a student. You’ve often used different metaphors for how you want to be making decisions behind the curtain with people like me, or maybe just me, out there taking the actions. The sword with the hand on the hilt, the tip of the spear, the-” Silla pushed forward. “What does that mean? Because you haven’t been behaving according to those metaphors.”

“I suppose I was speaking fairly loosely,” he said thoughtfully. “Largely what I meant is that experience is the best teacher and I wish to go from being the one gaining experience to the one guiding those who are.”

“Vanguard?”

“Pardon?”

“Vanguard’s a way to do that,” she said. 

“The Vanguard is not currently equipped for a teaching situation. Nor do I believe placing myself under the authority of Ikora or Zavala is the way to pursue that goal.”

“Wouldn’t be hard to get a vote of no confidence in Ikora,” Silla predicted. “She’s an excellent combatant. There’s no evidence to suggest she’s a good leader.”

“I have no one I wish to replace her with,” Martellus shook his head.

“Not even yourself?”

“Good heavens, no.” The immediate rejection was no surprise but she still found it amusing. “Not without two others willing to step into the other two roles and pursue a wholehearted reshaping of the Vanguard, complete with the dispersion of the City and a training academy for new Guardians.”

“I like it,” she declared. “Katya and Shry have talked about something similar more than once.”

“I believe there are many who would oppose us,” Martellus shook his head. “At the moment I believe our best method is to allow the Vanguard to sit atop the egg of humanity while we pursue our own agendas externally.”

“But Nisus talks about there being more than just the one pyramid. Blake talks about them too. She’s seen more of them at the edges of the system.” 

“And it is most certainly a problem but I am not sure the system is large enough to hide humanity from them.”

“We don’t have to. They’re not after humanity.” To her mind, protecting humanity from the Pyramids meant sending the majority of the non-combatants out of the system and away from the Traveler.

“They’re after the Traveler. But there are others who are after humanity and without the Traveler, without the Light, I’m not sure we can stand up to the Fallen, or the Taken, or the Scorn.”

“Fallen are here for the Traveler. Taken are here for the Traveler. Scorn are thus far only interested in the Reef. Why would we need to deal with them? The only real threat to humanity are the Cabal and even there it’s only the Red Legion leftovers. Everything else is about the Traveler.”

“Regardless, the Traveler has done work in the system. It is my understanding that the pattern of the Pyramids is not only to hunt the Traveler but to obliterate traces of its passage. Not that the Pyramids themselves are known; it could be that it was another enemy that did those things on the Fallen worlds and prior. But you’ve heard Calus talk. You know what he believes to be coming. He is undoubtedly mad, but I’m not prepared to discount that portion of his prophecy just yet.”

So Martellus wasn’t willing to lead through the Vanguard, nor did he seem willing to consider the possibility of organizing an evacuation project, nor had he thus far fully committed himself to Calus. If those weren’t his goals or compatible with them, she was unsure why he would need an agent like her. Silla changed tactics. “What are you after?”

“In which regard?” He was used to her sudden jumps between topics.

“With me. I’m your only student but you’re so interested in teaching…” she trailed off leadingly.

“I am,” he agreed. “You are by far the most capable student I’ve seen among humanity.”

That tripped off a new question. “Have you had other students?”

“I have taught others a bit here and there. No one who had the capacity to go as far as you do, I think.”

“Everyone seems… surprised by the idea of you taking on a student. An apprentice.”

“We were fairly quiet about it at first.”

“Would they have reacted any differently? Your reputation is very specific.”

“Would who have reacted differently to what?”

“Ultimately irrelevant,” she sighed, intending to return to her primary concerns but Martellus decided to clarify his answer.

“I said “we had been quiet about it” at first to indicate I had been quiet about it when I taught others. In fact, most of them did not see it as a teacher-student relationship; simply an older Guardian came along on a strike and showed them how to do some things while he was there, or I showed up at a training session and gave some helpful criticisms, I was randomly partnered with someone in the Crucible and gave them insights that would go on to save their lives. Nudges, pokes, seeds planted. In you I see the potential for something more. Something worth nurturing.” 

“What is that?”

“In our first lesson, I talked about the Guardians who have survived over the ages. Myself, Lord Shaxx, the Iron Lords, Osiris. There are relatively few of us and… I don’t see any of us helping other guardians to join the ranks of the old, of the powerful.”

“That’s what both Shaxx and Drifter are trying to do,” she said slowly.

“Shaxx is sharpening the Vanguard as a group; he’s not focused on individuals but on attempting to increase the median lifespan of a Guardian. Drifter is pursuing his own goals. The training he provides is… incidental to his experiments. If a Guardian were to die in Gambit, he would regret it but I do not think he would change the way he does things. I’m not sure he’s prepared to think in those terms. He very much believes in survival of the fittest.” 

“Mm,” Silla shook her head, not willing to agree with that statement even tacitly. “He very much believes in survival of the self. That’s why he doesn’t take on students; that’s why he doesn’t even really talk to Blake anymore aside from barking orders at her. He can’t afford to get attached. It compromises his capacity to survive.” 

“While he is working on information that will absolutely be of use to humanity as a whole, and Lightbearers in particular,” Martellus continued. “I believe that he will share that with us because it will serve his ends not because he believes in what we’re fighting for. And thus, as I said, I see relatively few Guardians of the old guard raising up new Lights to join us, and that is my purpose with you. I see you as having the potential to be one of us, to be here in a few hundred years: leading, teaching, acting when it’s called for.” 

Silla expressed a bit of her sulk. “Pretty tired of teaching.”

“You can see why I choose carefully,” he responded blithely.

“Fair,” she allowed, accepting the hit. “Where do you want this to go, then? Sure, that’s the very long term plan: we all survive. The way you talk, loosely or not, seems to indicate to me that you intend to be giving me orders and you have yet to do so.”

“I admit that was in my original plan: give you missions, give you specific challenges within these missions to stretch your capacities, and to give you opportunities to practice what I am teaching you in the field. My experience has been that you don’t need that. You are perfectly capable of applying and expounding upon my teachings in the course of your own activities. Perhaps I should have expected that, you being a Shadow, but I have been thinking about teaching since before I knew you existed and I had set out something of a curriculum in my head. Like all plans, it failed to survive contact with the subject. 

“I don’t see you as needing direction; I am happy to provide it when you want it and when I feel that there is something that would benefit from your attention I will ask you to look into it. But for the most part I see our relationship as teacher and student, and we’re well on our way to becoming peers. We’re not there yet, but you are on the path.” 

“And how do we know when that’s happened?” she asked instead of reacting.

“I admit that I am unsure. This is the first time I have done this. I suspect you may know before I do. I’ll always be five hundred years older than you but that distance will come to mean less over time. Perfect equality is not what I’m shooting for.” 

“It’s an ideal that doesn’t exist.”

“Exactly. I can foresee situations even now in which I would follow your instruction.”

“You don’t know a lot about stalking,” she said, nodding. 

“I don’t. In fact, I would generally attempt to avoid undertaking such an activity. So you see, we both have expertise. And I would encourage you not to dwell on peerage, simply pursue becoming Silla Faer and take the rest as it comes.” 

So Silla smiled, knowing he could see she wasn’t fully satisfied and hoping he could still see her gratitude. More, though, she hoped he would indulge her preferences and permit her to go back to thinking about it before he tried to question her; to her relief, he did. Back in the EDZ, at her cabin a ways off from the Farm, she let herself feel.

Disappointment. She had _liked_ the idea of being under someone’s command. The Vanguard-Guardian system was so unstructured as to be useless to her, and Calus gave no commands most of the time. Silla trusted Martellus though, and acting as his agent, his weapon, had sounded like a challenging and satisfying way to live. 

But Calus had named her Shadow. In some way, she had been Martellus’ equal from the very beginning. That was an angle she had neglected to consider previously, one she needed to address. At first glance she wasn’t sure she liked it, truthfully. 

The idea of gaining peerage with Martellus, especially given those he already considered his peers, did not appeal to her. Sure, she didn’t mind the idea of living a while, but the list he’d offered up was not a group of people she wanted to join. Shaxx? Obsessed. Osiris? Obsessed. Saladin? Obsessed. Add in the Drifter? Obsessed, if more capable of diversification than the rest. She hadn’t had the chance to meet Efrideet, but Silla didn’t have a lot of hope. 

Calus thought she was capable enough as a field operative to have the same rank as Martellus. What did that mean? She knew from some of Calus’ ramblings that the Emperor intended for her to be one of his assassins or scouts, and for Martellus an ambassador, perhaps even becoming Primus in time. 

Calus had offered her a place on the Leviathan. He would absolutely be willing to treat her like a weapon if she asked, spoil her with weapons and targets. Those loved by the Emperor - the Chief Gift-Giver - wanted for nothing. 

Martellus’ first lesson for her had been that she had to survive. If the Vanguard was unwilling to properly protect the Traveler instead of siding with the Consensus, if the Traveler were caged again, or destroyed, Calus was really the only possible option she could see. He could provide gear, intended to fight the Darkness, and seemed to comprehend the powers at play better than most anyone (or at least he thought he did). Add to that the abilities beyond the scope of Light or Dark that he could grant to a Shadow, plus his whole prophecy with him and one of his Shadows being the last alive and you get one very tempted Silla Faer - at least until she let her feelings into the equation and the need to protect her fathers and friends had its say.

She collected her gear and set her jumpship for the coordinates Nisus had given her. All of that could be a problem for a Silla who got to get old. For now, she had an unwitting pseudo-god to protect and worms to kill. Maybe that would be enough.


	14. Barnacles

Nisus turned to watch Edgar absorb the last of the Light formed from Oryx’ destruction. “Let Ms. Blake and Eris know that the fireworks should be over, please,” he said when the Ghost returned to his side. “They’re welcome to return or not at their pleasure.”

“Shall I inform Ms. Faer as well?”

“Faer?” he asked, surprised.

“She was here when you gave the clear order.”

“Oh. Sure, why not. We’re not exactly prepared to host but I’m sure she’ll understand. We have a Dreadnaught to handle.”

“The Realm is capable of hospitality,” Edgar pointed out.

“Sure, but I think I want a Dreadnaught. Wouldn’t you like a Dreadnaught, Edgar? Can we keep it, please?”

Edgar turned to stare at him. “A Dreadnaught is not a kitten.”

“Nope! Listen, I can hear something in here,” he said, falling back on seriousness. “Something about this place is important in a way I haven’t found yet.”

“I never said you couldn’t keep it,” Edgar sounded contemplative.

“You’re the best!” Nisus crowed and then hurried to where he expected company to transmat in. “Blake is going to have an aneurism.”

“I imagine Eris will before Ms. Blake does,” the Ghost sighed. “Perhaps be gentle.”

Nisus’ eyes tightened. “Okay. Yeah.”

They strode into one of the hangars and Nisus barely had time to register someone calling his name when he was tackled from behind and the side. Once he was sure of his balance he looked to find Lishan and Nova both wrapped around him. All the fight went out of him in an instant and he drew them closer. “Oh, thank fuck,” he breathed.

“Or something,” Ksenir agreed, joining the group hug.

“Light,” Nisus swore blissfully, trying to juggle his arms so he could hold onto the kids and get an armful of his friend. “Ksenir!”

“You were gone for so long,” Niles said in Lishan’s voice. “What happened?”

“I was? How long?” Nisus looked across to Eris and Emma.

“About a month,” Blake said, striding to one of the walls to study it. “The entire ship feels different.”

“I kinda cheated,” Nisus said as if that explained anything. “Did it to weaken Oryx’ Oversoul.”

“Can you explain all of this?” Ksenir asked immediately. 

“Sure, lemme deal with my barnacles first,” he grinned. “Can you two let me stand up properly so I can tell you a story, please?”

“Nope. Negative. No can do,” Nova shook her head against his shoulder. “I’m afraid the barnacle cannot detach at this time. The organism is too fragile. The shell must grow.”

“The shell must grow,” Niles agreed. He had always been up for Nova’s brand of mischief.

Nisus rolled his eyes to the ceiling but found that he didn’t want to stop smiling. His arms tightened around them. “Okay. The barnacles can have a few minutes for their shells to grow. Then it’s story time. How’re you feeling, kid?”

Lishan looked up at him and smiled. Nisus felt himself unclench and relax in ways he hadn’t known he needed to. “Much better. Very much better. Thank you,” Niles answered. 

“Anytime, seriously. Yourself, Niles?”

“All good, boss.”

“Lark? Yory?” he called to Ksenir and Nova’s Ghosts.

“I’m well, thank you.” Lark said, her familiar voice a balm to Nisus.

“I feel great!” Yory chirped, zooming around. 

“How’s it all looking, Eris?” he called.

“Between,” she said, stalking the edges of the hangar.

“I try my best,” he said, grinning.

“How?” Eris demanded.

“I cheated, remember? Barnacles, how are the shells doing? Aunt Eris is getting anxious for storytime.” Eris froze mid-step and Blake chuckled quietly. 

“Right and,” Ksenir clapped his hands together and pointed one hand at Blake and the other at Faer where she stood in Blake’s shadow. “Who the hell are you two?”

“Really, Ksenir,” Nisus sighed. “By the wall is Ms. Emma Blake. Literature reclamation specialist, Taken expert, and mistress of schedules. She’s been managing me so please be grateful. And over there is- Lishan, would you like to?” She shook her head against his coat. “Right, then. Ms. Silla Faer. Student of one Gentleman Martellus and all around terrifying lady. She’s in charge of managing security of information. They’ve been immeasurably helpful while I was without you all.” He felt Lishan freeze during his description of Silla and her assistance, and he began to wonder but didn’t have time. 

Nova bolted from him to collect Eris’ hand and with surprising gentleness led her to Nisus. “Storytime, Uncle Nisus!” she insisted. 

Gordon had collected people sort of like a duck collected ducklings. Eventually he had started assigning the younger ones to the older ones. He’d helped Lehi with Reier, some, early on. Gordon himself had taken on Jules. Ksenir was assigned Nova. Caris had tolerated Lech. Nisus had managed to dodge it until Lishan came along and refused anyone who wasn’t a warlock. 

Nova had been the one to start calling the older folks her aunts and uncles. Lech joined them at about the same time as Nova and had followed her lead, and eventually they had convinced Jules to join them. Lishan never spoke at all but Niles had picked it up. Roping Eris into all of that wasn’t something he had intended to do, but he was glad Nova was going along with it.

“Yes, storytime, Uncle Nisus,” Blake echoed and he groaned internally. Blake and Faer came over with collapsible benches from somewhere. Faer had two under one arm and was holding the other end of Blake’s. Faer set them up so deftly he decided they were hers. Soon they were all seated in a circle. He and Lishan sat on one bench, as she’d still not let him go. Nova between Ksenir and Eris on the bench to his left. Blake and Faer on the one to his right.

“Once upon a time,” he began, gesturing expansively with the arm that didn’t have a barnacle attached. “A sparrow league got delusions of grandeur and started running big time Vanguard missions. One such mission was against a terrible Hive creature called Oryx, the Taken King. While this King did not have a castle, he did have a Dreadnaught and the team boarded it in order to find and face him.”

Faer produced a sack of marshmallows from somewhere and passed them to Blake who grinned and waved at Ksenir. She rolled her eyes but tossed a Dawnblade into the ground in the middle of the benches to act as a heat source for roasting marshmallows. Nova clapped happily and handed Ksenir a knife to hold her marshmallow with while Blake distributed them. When Blake raised an eyebrow at him, Nisus grinned and held up two fingers. She tossed them and he caught them with his mind, directing them to spin slowly round the Dawnblade.

“The fight was horrible and no one here needs that reminder so we’ll skip to the end. My sword went through Oryx’s face. Cockerel was killed in the fighting,” he said, sobering the group abruptly. Ksenir gaped at him in horror. “I sent Gordon towards the ships and kept looking for the rest of you. I found Caris, told her to grab Gordon and report to the Vanguard. She went. I had only just found Lehi when Edgar told me he couldn’t sense the Traveler anymore. The Realm closed upon Oryx’s death.” He stuffed a marshmallow in his mouth to give himself a break. 

“None of your Ghosts were responsive,” Nisus continued. “Ask someone else to tell you how long we were all in there. I’d rather not think about it. It was just me, Edgar, your… corpses and Oryx’, all in a box. I, uh. Got bored.”

“What did you do?” Ksenir frowned at him immediately. She was very familiar with the trouble Nisus would get up to when bored. 

“Read the Tablets of Ruin.”

Every one of Win Count stiffened. Lishan clawed at his arm until he looked at her. “Are you okay?” Niles asked for her.

Nisus smiled. “Yeah. Didn’t hurt me none.” He returned to his storytelling. “But once I’d read them enough to memorize them I got bored again. The Throne would sometimes let me watch Hive stuff on the outside but not always. So I went and used them.

“The Deep, the Dark, whatever you’d like to call it, does not make for a pleasant conversation partner. It gave me a few visions and I told it to fuck right off and ended the call. Which was rude of me since I’m the one who started the conversation, but it was an unusual situation so I forgive me.” Faer and Blake snorted as one and he grinned at them before continuing. 

“One of those visions showed me what I would be able to do if the Dark had its way with me. Now, I did not allow the Dark to have its way with me, but I did learn a thing or two about manipulating the Dark. I was able to draw Dark out of each of you. And yes, I can act as a full blown Dark Warlock and no I do not recommend it. I prefer to stick with the Light when I can.

“Anyway, I imagine you saw some fireworks today, yeah?”

“Those weren’t fireworks,” Ksenir said slowly. “Those were Taken fields.”

“Yup,” Nisus agreed. “Remember how we had to kill Crota’s Oversoul?” Lishan nodded on his arm. “Well, what we did to Oryx didn’t actually kill his Oversoul. His Oversoul was the Dreadnaught.”

Lishan reared back and looked around the hangar in horror. Ksenir’s grip on Nova’s shoulder and Eris’ hand in hers was all that kept Nova on the bench. “But the Dreadnaught’s different now,” Ksenir mused, looking around the hangar.

“Correct again. I… Hm.” Nisus settled himself. “Well, I took Oryx’ Oversoul. Stripped it right out the Dreadnaught and had a conversation. He was also a terrible conversation partner. In the end I stripped the Dark from him with Light and let Edgar have the giant pile of Light that was left. Now the Dreadnaught is no longer made of Dark.”

“And you have fully embraced the Sword Logic,” Eris murmured. 

Nisus tilted his hand from side to side. “In practice, sort of. Not so much in theory or philosophy. Now that the Realm in mine, I can redirect that philosophy some.”

“How is this Nisus embracing the Sword Logic?” Nova asked, looking between Eris and Nisus. 

“I killed Oryx,” Nisus said. “Obviously I couldn’t have done it without the team but all the killing logic cares about is who did the killing. With that blow, according to Oryx’ own philosophy and the philosophy by which he governed the Hive, I took his place.”

Nova’s eyes grew to comical proportions. “ _You’re_ the Taken King?”

“Kinda, yeah,” Nisus shrugged.

“We’re doomed,” Ksenir dropped her head in her hand. 

“Absolutely dead,” Nova agreed, still staring at Nisus. 

Blake laughed, long and delighted. “Tell me everything. I never would have imagined it would be possible to Take an Ascendant Realm, let alone Take it without it turning to Blight.”

“Throne World,” Nisus corrected. “The Ascendant Plane is the whole damn place. Never cared about the distinction before now but here I am. I Took the Throne with Light in the mix,” Nisus explained. “And changed its purpose pretty severely. Whole new paradigm.” He paused, considering. “Honestly the Sword Logic probably helped.”

“And the Oversoul?”

“Oryx? Didn’t come willingly so I didn’t Take him properly because that would be too pleasant for him. I layered his Taking and “corrupted” the remaining energy of his soul to Light instead.”

Blake grinned, shaking her head. “Well done, Mr. Blaise. I am genuinely impressed. I still want to know the rest of the details.”

“That might could be arranged, Ms. Blake,” Nisus grinned at her. He was briefly distracted by an actual expression of happiness on Faer’s face - he hadn’t known she could do that - before he brought his attention back to his old team. 

“You haven’t been able to draw the Dark out of the others?” Ksenir asked. 

“Not as yet. Though given that the two of you did not actually recover until you were outside of the Realm, that may be playing a part. Furthermore,” he nodded to Faer. “Mister Gentleman has said that there are fragments of the Traveler scattered around the EDZ that still have Light in them. Perhaps we can combine our various methods with a new locale and see what that gets us.”

“No one guards them,” Faer offered. “I could find a decent sized piece and bring it out here. That way we don’t risk someone stumbling across us.”

“Again with maintaining the secrecy. I’ll gladly let you do the hunting, Ms. Faer.” She nodded with a thin smile. “What do you think, Eris?”

“It could work. It is worth the effort to try.”

“I agree,” Nisus said immediately, as Ksenir and Nova nodded. “Let’s get it done, then. Lishan, you want to go with-” She tightened her grip on his arm in response. “Right. Barnacle, how could I forget?” he teased, warm. 

“Can I?” Nova asked, looking at Faer. “I have got to see something other than this ship. And maybe run a few miles.”

“Sure,” Faer nodded. “Just take precautions against being seen.”

“Can do,” Nova bounced to her feet. She kissed the top of Eris’ hood as she let go of her hand and hugged Ksenir. “I’ll be back when I can breathe.”

Ksenir’s lips were twisted in a grin. “Hunters,” she said fondly.

Once they were gone Nisus nudged Lishan. “Want to tell me why you’re not getting along with your friend?” She didn’t look at him and shook her head. He sighed. “Well, from everything she’s told me she’s been worried out of her head about you and the fireteam kinda fell apart without you. So maybe at least be nice.”

“Clutch fell apart?” Niles asked with his own voice, alarmed.

“She said they did, yeah. Said three of them were sticking together to run Strikes but the six man team just wasn’t gelling without you guys.”

Nisus felt Lishan roll her eyes. “Then she didn’t even try to keep them together. She could have if she’d bothered,” Niles said in Lishan’s voice. 

“I have to disagree,” Niles continued in his own voice. “I got regular missives of distress and worry from every member of Clutch. Even Rathna was using her words. I would fully believe that the grief and shock damaged their patience with each other.” Lishan shook her head against Nisus’ shoulder. 

“Why do you think your team wouldn’t struggle with your absence?” Nisus said, frowning.

“Win Count never did,” Niles said with her voice.

“Very different circumstances,” Ksenir offered. “We’d all worked together for years and we had part timers to pull from when we needed to. Were your teammates old enough to have other contacts?”

“Not really, no,” Niles offered. “Only one member is older than Lishan and she’s a very solitary Hunter.”

“New team all together?”

“Yes. First for all but Lishan and the elder Hunter.”

“So of course they wouldn’t know what to do without you,” Nisus said, bending to look at Lishan.

“Cloud will be fine,” she signed.

“But Silla’s here,” Niles countered immediately. “And Anselm told me that Vice is running with Pryderi and Rathna. MU joins them for Crucible and Gambit. Silla and Bee are on their own.”

When Lishan only shrugged, Nisus frowned. “Kid, did she mistreat you or something?”

Lishan stiffened, tossed her hair over her shoulder, and began signing furiously. “We had a number of disagreements on leadership and methodology. She refused to listen to me. I have no intention of being on her fireteam again,” then she stood and strode away from the hangar.

Eris frowned. Niles, who remained behind, sighed. “She’s wrong; Silla always listened. Typically she would find ways to try Lishan’s ideas that wouldn’t result in everyone dying catastrophically. Lishan has terrible ideas.”

Nisus dropped his head in his hands and Ksenir moved to sit next to him, an arm across his shoulders. “We can keep her with one of us until she grows out of it,” she offered. 

“Or you could let her fail in controlled environments for a while,” Blake said, expression utterly bored.

“Silla’s been doing that. Lishan didn’t recognize that the reason things went poorly was because of her ideas. And,” Niles hesitated. “Silla sort of protected her from the others’ displeasure. She always made sure that when Lishan got angry it was only with her.”

“That’s… unusually unintelligent of her,” Blake said, surprised. 

“Blindspots,” Nisus sighed. “Happens. Damn. I like being the fun Uncle.”

Ksenir snorted. “My turn.”

“Well,” Blake stood. “We need cots for the rest of the team and a full medbay set up out here. Get to it, Blaise.”

“Yes’m,” he said, pushing himself to his feet. “Eris, anything aside from medbay supplies?”

“Light.”

“I’ll let you handle that, Ksenir,” Nisus decided. “I’ll be in the Realm. Edgar, why don’t you stay here and let me know if I’m needed for anything.”

Edgar materialized and circled him once, appraising. “Should I send someone with you to keep you on task?”

“I have eight graves behind my chair, Edgar. I don’t think I need help staying on task.” It was only when he realized that everyone was eyeing him that he thought on his words. “That was particularly maudlin, wasn’t it?”

“Want company?” Blake offered. “I can help shape things once you’ve produced the matter.”

“Yeah,” he said eventually, able to see the olive branch for what it was. “I think that would be smart.”

“Good,” Ksenir sighed, relieved. “I… no offense, but I really didn’t want to go back there.”

“None taken,” Nisus assured her. “It’s a pretty different place now, but I wouldn’t want you to see the others like this. Shall we, Ms. Blake?” he offered her his arm.

“Let’s,” she said, taking his arm.


	15. Stress

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ...yoga scares me

Slàine leaned on his elbow and watched while Silla and MU drilled Katya-7 and Shry respectively on tactical retreat and Ghost transport. Silla had trained him in most of these skills already and more than that his first-life training taught him how to manage resources in the field. So Sly sat with Ardath-4 and Astrophel, sometimes explaining reasonings and thought processes for the EXO. 

Originally Silla had worked with Shry because they had all expected Shry to be the problematic one in this scenario. They were very quickly proven wrong and Silla took over for MU as Katya proved argumentative. Katya had her own opinions about tactics and it seemed that retreat was not an acceptable option. While MU hurled attack after attack at Shry to force her to practice dodging, Katya argued every single scenario with Silla. Astrophel had given up about an hour in and had joined Sly and Ardath on the ramp to Failsafe’s core.

Silla was handling it with aplomb, Sly was pleased to see. She didn’t get frustrated, nor did she reject Katya’s concerns. Every step in the thought process of choosing a tactical retreat (or Wine Night, as Silla’s team called it) was patiently explained and justified as Katya tried to take them apart. It was slow going.

Sly knew that each and every piece of Clutch’s formations had already been thoroughly vetted, shredded, redesigned, vetted, restructured, and vetted over and over again; he’d met Martellus, after all and Silla herself was damn near obsessive about her fireteam’s readiness. There really wasn’t going to be much that Katya could come up with that would destabilize or invalidate their work. He imagined that Katya knew that too, which meant something else was going on.

“Astrophel?” The Ghost turned to face him. “What’s she scared of here?”

Ardath turned to stare at him, jaw slack. “What?”

“I don’t know what it is this time,” Astrophel admitted, not acknowledging Ardath’s disbelief. “She’s been really in her head lately. Not that she talks to me much normally, but something’s definitely getting to her and she won’t share with me.”

“You think Katya-” Ardath spluttered and Sly spent the time it took the EXO to recover from the idea of Katya being afraid to try and pinpoint when Katya went quiet. Eventually Ardath could speak in sentences again. “If it were Xol, I think we would have seen that last time,” he said slowly. “Is it Nisus?”

“Or is it me?” Sly mused. “I’m an entire new variable that she had no warning for but Shry knew me on instinct and sort of assumed I was fireteam.”

“All of it?” Olly posited. Astrophel didn’t answer.

“Can someone ask Isaac to come here when he has a minute?” Sly requested. Olly twirled in place, which he had come to learn was sort of like nodding for her.

“I am here,” Isaac said, appearing a moment later.

“Theory: Katya trusts you to be more logical than anyone else here. Thoughts?”

“That does seem consistent with her behavior. Typically she trusts Silla to a similar degree,” the Ghost said slowly. “Why?”

“Because she needs to learn this and she’s not accepting input from the rest of us but she might from you. Right this minute I don’t care if she agrees with the when and why of the maneuver; all I care about is that she’s capable. We’re not asking her to trust someone else to call Wine Night for her, just to learn new mobility skills.”

Isaac turned to consider the Titan. “Under normal circumstances I am certain I could communicate such to her. Given her level of distress, I am unsure how to proceed.”

“Zero emotion, full pragmatism, and don’t allow it to be a conversation,” Astrophel said quietly. “I’m terrible at it.” Ardath collected his friend in his hands and hugged him.

“I am willing to try,” Isaac decided, turning to Astrophel. “What is your preference?”

“That she gets this out of her system,” Astrophel grumbled. “I’m happy for you to try.” Isaac nodded and vanished. Not long after, Silla asked to take a break so she could think about some things. Katya nodded and stomped away to watch Shry. Silla threw herself on the ground next to Slàine and draped an arm over her eyes but didn’t say anything.

“Can I ask a question?” Olly asked into the silence.

“Sure,” Sly said.

“Is it weird to go from being a pilot to being infantry?” she balanced on his shoulder.

“Absolutely,” he agreed. “We got the basics of ground training, you know, but all of my training in decision making, strategy, and tactics was directed toward three dimensional spaces and flight-capable vehicles. Some of it transfers with a shift in perspective, but a lot of it doesn’t. In the air, I can control angles of sight lines simply by moving. On the ground, it’s all terrain dependent. That’s a lot of what I’ve been getting out of working with Silla.”

“You haven’t stated it that clearly before. I can work with that,” the Awoken said, not moving.

“I’ll work at clarifying how I’m processing things, then,” Sly offered. 

“Thank you,” Silla sighed, emphatic. “Now if only Katya would-”

“What do you think she’s afraid of?” Olly interrupted.

The arm came off of Silla’s eyes and she looked around the group, frowning. “That’s what fear looks like on her?”

“Sometimes,” Astrophel said.

“Damn it,” Silla muttered, laying back down. “I think the only one who isn’t actually terrified of all of this is Blake and she’s only managing that because she’s already said she’s not going to the fight.”

“I don’t think she’s afraid of Xol, really,” Ardath ventured. “I don’t think I’ve ever known her to be afraid of something she can fight.”

“That’s… true,” Astrophel realized. “Going to the Ascendant Realm?”

But Silla was eyeing Slàine and he nodded, grimacing. “Yeah, that’s what I was afraid of.”

“What?” The Ghost asked.

“She’s uncomfortable with Sly,” Silla sighed. “Something about that has twisted around to fear. So we need her to get to know you. Do you think it would be easier if she were teaching him infantry stuff, Astrophel? That way she’s in charge?”

“It might,” Astrophel said slowly. “Why would discomfort with Sly mean that she doesn’t like this running stuff though?”

“Because Sly’s already got it down,” Ardath said slowly. “He came in with full memories of military grade combat training, frankly terrifying piloting skills, and immediate full trust from Shry. Those are all things Katya had to work very hard for or still doesn’t have and-” he broke off, shaking his head.

“Shit,” Astrophel said.

“But she’s better at using the Light by actual lightyears!” Olly cried. “And she’s genuinely amazing in combat. She’d obliterate him in almost every one to one combat scenario that isn’t in space.”

“And Shry would not have made it this far, to a state this healthy, without her,” Ardath added. He tilted his head to the side and then nodded. “Isaac says she listened but he’s not sure she’ll act on it.”

“Cool,” Silla said, determined. “I have an idea.” She flounced towards where MU and Shry were still practicing. 

“Are you okay?” Ardath asked, looking at Slàine.

“Yes and no,” he shrugged. “It sucks. I can see how much Shry trusts her and if she’s earned that from Shry she has it from me too, no questions. I’d like to be friends. I can absolutely see how she might struggle with me getting added to the mix. Olly’s too perfect for anyone to struggle with liking, of course,” the Ghost ducked and hid but was obviously pleased. “But I came in and took a role that had previously been only hers and that she was looking forward to being able to claim as a new fireteam. And that’s all without any of the stuff that may or may not be in her history.”

“What do you mean?” Olly asked, already emerging.

“Exominds are machine platforms uploaded with an existing consciousness. So at some point, she was most likely a human and then somehow she ended up loaded into an EXO. EXOs were created with the express purpose of being war machines, but they were never truly machines, yeah? And then with Katya for a name? That’s a Russian name. Even with the Traveler around, Russia had such a complicated history that it wasn’t really a great place to be, let alone be under their command. Earth was pretty left behind in the whole Golden Age thing. Add up all of that plus you said she was in West Africa when you found her? That place was the stage of some really terrible atrocities against civilians and some awful fighting. Who knows how much of that she saw?”

“But she doesn’t remember,” Astrophel pointed out, unusually reserved.

“Maybe,” Sly shrugged. “But given that I remember and Shry’s got mnemonic memories? Maybe Lightbearers remember more than they realize. And anyway, I have no idea what Katya’s been through since she’s been a Lightbearer. I know more about her first-life (thanks to my memories) than I do about her as a Lightbearer.”

Failsafe’s frame came out to join them. “I have new drafts of the schematics,” she announced. 

“The Arc shields? Let me just-” Ardath pulled a datapad from his satchel and began reading. 

Sly rose and left the Ghosts, Ardath, and Failsafe to play with their ideas and walked over to say hi to Shry as she and MU had finally stopped for a break. He clapped a hand on MU’s shoulder as he passed. “That was well done. You’ve got excellent endurance.”

“Oh, I- Uh,” MU began stammering as he always did when complimented. 

“And you,” Sly continued without waiting for MU. He could be merciful. “Looked like you were having fun,” he leaned on Shry. 

“I haven’t spent that much time in the air before,” she said, grinning. “Well, not when it wasn’t falling at terminal velocity.”

“Not in the air?” MU scoffed. “What kind of Stormcaller are you?”

“The kind who likes guns,” Shry shrugged. 

“Shry,” Silla called. “You need a break?”

“Just a few minutes to finish this,” Shry waved her canteen.

“Cool. You’ve got Katya then.”

“Can do,” Shry agreed, nodding at the Titan. Katya nodded and leaned against a rock outcropping.

Silla then pounced on Sly, knocking him off of Shry and onto the ground. “I need to be entertained,” she announced.

MU immediately backed away, hands in front of him. “I need a break. You guys have fun.” He headed for the ramp.

“And what sort of entertainment is milady in the mood for?” Sly asked conversationally, as if he were not flattened across rocks and roots with Silla sitting on top of him. After Katya’s behavior, he could understand her needing a break.

“Do I have to do all the work around here?” Silla complained.

Sly patted her ankle, since he could reach it. “You could leave us to fend for ourselves, you know.” The raised eyebrow told him clearly what she thought of that idea. “I need to learn to run on uneven terrain without tripping,” he offered. 

Silla pulled him to his feet and he spent the next several hours running as hard as he could, falling, gaining bruises, and nearly breaking his legs. Without discussing it, they stayed within sight of Shry and Katya. Given the number of times Shry made comments, he was sure Katya had been able to see most of it. Maybe watching him fall over and over again would help. 

When Silla released him, he wanted nothing more than to collapse in a stream somewhere. Instead he tore off his coat, boots, and socks, and forced himself to stretch extensively. He’d always preferred stretching and yoga barefoot; he liked to dig his toes in. By the time he’d abandoned stretching and was simply enjoying various yoga poses, Katya gave up. 

“I need to stop,” she said, terse. “I need to bludgeon something for a while.”

“I volunteer,” Sly called, immediately wondering if he’d lost his mind. Remaining in scorpion, he considered, absently wriggling his toes in his hair. “I haven’t sparred since- Well. Yeah. Not since my last certifications, anyway.”

“What are you doing?” Silla demanded, immediately next to him. “Your spine is-”

“It’s called scorpion pose,” he said breezily. “The practice is yoga. Essentially meditative stretching for most people. I take it a bit far.”

“I can’t look, oh geez,” MU muttered somewhere to Sly’s right. “I wanna throw up.”

“Aw, MU,” Sly grinned. “I think you’re pretty too.” Deciding to show off, he lowered his chest to the ground and settled his feet flat on the ground beyond his head. MU tripped and staggered away. 

“I need this,” Silla said finally. “Sly, you are-”

“Not certified to teach yoga,” he noted cheerfully. “It’s very easy to do wrong and in doing so hurt yourself very, very badly.”

“I have a Ghost,” she countered.

“Isn’t the goal to avoid needing the Ghost’s healing capacity?” he wondered. “I can try. But there are excellent books and video training files if you can find them.”

“How do you stand up?” Shry asked.

Grinning, Sly brought his hands to his shoulders, pushed up until he was in a standard backbend, and rolled himself up to standing from there. “That’s how I do it, anyway.”

Shry shook her head. “Why do I have the feeling you just did that the most difficult way possible?”

“I like to show off?” he admitted. “It isn’t the most difficult, but it’s up there.”

“Sly, I need this,” Silla insisted, face intent. “The places I could get to if I could change the shape of my body like that!”

“I want everyone to know that I am not turning that into a joke about sex,” Sly announced, causing MU to wheeze. 

“Not my type,” Silla said, considering. “You’re alright for a guy, I guess,” she allowed. MU’s wheezing intensified.

A crumbling, splitting sound kicked up and Slàine looked over to see Katya ripping a stone apart with her hands. When the entire thing was so many pebbles, she turned to face him. “Okay. Now I can spar.”

“Perfect,” he managed, mouth dry. Her fingers weren’t even scratched. He only just remembered his working theory was that Katya was unhappy with him for showing up when he did with the skills that he had and thought maybe showing off had been a bad idea. “Can’t wait.”

All told, it didn’t turn out as badly as he might have imagined. Katya had been so kind as to allow him to participate for several minutes each round before she put him on the ground. He did regret proving his flexibility some; she was less gentle with the angles she put his limbs into than she might have otherwise been. Each time she won, she gave him the chance to stop and each time he got back up and told her to bring it. As time went on, she seemed to relax a bit more with each round. 

They had been going for nearly an hour (and boy, was Slàine surprised by the changes to his endurace) when she finally swung with force. Things went a bit nuts at that point. Sly leaned into his speed but Katya didn’t need to lean into anything to keep laying him out. When he accidentally clotheslined himself on her arm, she actually laughed and helped him up.

“I think you’re done,” she said. 

“Nah,” he said, mouth on autopilot. “Medium at most.” 

“Oh! I know that one!” Olly cried. “That’s a measurement of how cooked something is.”

“Got it in one,” he agreed easily.

“Today’s not a good day to try my patience,” Katya admitted. “Take the break.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Shry’s hands were on her hips. “You never warn me when you’re losing patience, you just throw me over your shoulder and carry me somewhere you think is more restful. How come he gets a warning?”

“Shry,” Katya sighed. “Really?”

“It’s a valid question,” Shry huffed. “But he definitely needs a break. Come on, Slàine.”

The degree to which his name startled him was very informative. “Oh, all right. Thanks for sparring with me,” he said to Katya. 

“You’re swaying,” she noted.

“It’s called dancing,” he said primly, letting Shry guide him to the chairs Ardath had built. She turned and headed back to Katya.

“That was impressive,” Ardath said quietly once Sly was seated. “She’s almost normal now.”

“Evidence acquired,” Sly said. “Now we can work on it, but maybe tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow is for yoga,” Silla countered. “But we can probably make it work. How did you know-”

“Didn’t,” he grinned at her. “Was pretty sure she was going to break me in half, not be nice to me. Did you see that rock?”

Silla patted his arm. “I have seen her tear a hole in a metal sheet with her bare hands. The rock was nothing.”

“...I think I might need to see things like that in safe situations at least once before we’re in the field,” he said faintly. 

“Katya is almost exactly as impulsive as Shry is. I mean, she picks up and throws entire trees at Shry when they’re sparring for real. Do you really think they prepare for things like that?”

“I think I might need to get serious about that whole infantry thing,” he decided instead of thinking about that. “I’m not looking forward to deploying.”

Silla paused, looking him over. “You don’t have to, you know. No one will think less of you.”

“Are you kidding? I am absolutely certain that the moment I see Shry go into a combat situation without me I will lose my shit. Shry was always so-” he shook himself. “It was always my job to protect her. She doesn’t need that anymore, really, but I haven’t adapted to it yet.”

“Okay,” she said. “Just- Look. There will be times when you’re on mission and something explodes somehow and everything will hurt and your ears will be ringing and you’ll have to get up and keep moving. There will be times when something will run straight up to you and when it dies, all of its insides will get all over you and you have to keep moving. I need you to know that this doesn’t have to be for you.”

Slàine reached over and grabbed her hand. “Silla, I really appreciate you being careful and checking on me and trying to make sure I’m prepared. I know it’s not ideal but I know myself and my limitations and I am trying to handle them. I’m working to be ready as soon as possible. And yes,” he said before she could interrupt. “I know I don’t have to. I want to. I’m not thrilled about everything involved, but I want to do this.”

“I have complete confidence in you,” she said. “Have from the start. You’re going to be just fine.”

“Thanks,” he grinned. “I have consistently been impressed with you, you know.”

“Maybe we’ll both be fine, then,” Silla offered.

“Count on it.”


	16. Family Reunions

“Thanks Marc,” Silla smiled and handed him the new watch rotation for the Farm. “I appreciate you handling this.”

“I have to do something with myself since Devrim insists on keeping his perch,” he rolled his eyes, though he was smiling. “He’s having the time of his life. The least I can do is help hold down the home fort.” Marc headed off to manage the Farm’s watch assignments and Silla knelt down to check on the Colonel. 

When she stood it was to a face-full of Ghost. “What are you doing here?” she hissed at Edgar.

“I wanted to see this place. I wanted to see green. Nisus said I had to talk to you,” he said cheerfully, though his voice was quiet. “I put on a different shell and everything.”

“Everything okay over there?” Ahab called. 

Silla grabbed Edgar and pulled him close to her. “Yeah, just a friend’s Ghost checking in.”

“Uh huh. Sure,” he said. “You can see if there’s eggs in the coop if you need a minute.”

Silently, Silla carried Edgar into the coop. “Keep your voice down. Don’t disturb the hens.”

“Who was that?” Edgar asked, spinning to face her.

“Ahab? He takes care of all the livestock.”

“He seems familiar,” Edgar said slowly. 

“Then be careful,” she pleaded. 

“Really familiar,” he went on as if she hadn’t spoken. 

Sighing, Silla dropped her head in her hands. “Talk to me before you do anything. Tell me what you are thinking.”

“His Light signature feels like Gordon’s,” the Ghost admitted.

“Any chance it isn’t him?”

“Of course there is. But if it is him-”

“Ahab’s been out here since the Red War,” Silla said slowly. “No one’s ever seen a Ghost with him.”

Edgar twirled in the air, thinking. “I’d really like to get closer,” he said slowly. “If it’s Gordon, it would mean the world to Nisus that he survived.”

“Are you certain he wouldn’t tell the Vanguard about you all?”

“I… No. I’m not.”

“Okay, then here’s what we’re going to do. You’re going to stay with me, but not in the material. Communicate with me through Bee as needed. Once you know yes or no, let me know and we’ll figure something out from there.”

“Deal.” Edgar phased out immediately.

Silla silently collected the few eggs in the nests and carried them to Ahab. “Sorry about that,” she offered.

“Ghosts are enthusiastic, I know,” Ahab waved off her apology. “Everything okay?”

“Kind of?” she said, honestly. “Things are weird right now.”

Ahab peered at her. “That mentor fellow treating you right?”

“Only the best,” she smiled.

“Your fireteam?”

“Splitting up,” she admitted. “We’ve all got different interests right now.”

“That’s hard,” he noted. “Come on in and sit down a bit. Tell me about it.”

 _Edgar insists that this is Gordon Bryson._ Bee said. 

“Okay,” Silla said. “I think I need to talk to you anyway.”

“I am far too old for you, young lady,” he said immediately, leading the way into his cottage. “Though you have excellent taste.”

“Thank you,” she said, choosing to be flattered that the idea had even been possible in his mind. She settled herself at the table he pointed at and accepted the cup of coffee. “I’d like to ask you a question before I start rambling.”

“Shoot,” he said, sliding into the chair across from her.

“I can tell that you’re a Lightbearer,” she said slowly, hurrying on when he stiffened. “I don’t want anything really, I just. I wanted to say that if you need anything or-”

He held up a hand. “Let me stop you there. How old are you?”

“Almost two,” she shrugged.

Ahab boggled at her. “You what?”

“What?”

“And you got third in that tournament thing?”

“Yeah?”

He whistled. “Damn. What’s the guy teaching you?”

Silla grinned, predatory. “Finance.”

Ahab winced and shook his head. “Right. Well. I’m fuck-off older than you so you don’t need to try and take care of me. I’ve gotten into and out of scrapes you wouldn’t believe. I’m fine.”

“I would believe,” she said quietly. “Because I have a guess at who you used to be.”

He narrowed his eyes at her. “I’m Ahab. That’s who I’ve been.”

“So you weren’t on Win Count, then.”

His eyes widened then he scowled at her. “Why would you think that?”

“Because I have good news if you were,” she said, carefully casual. 

Ahab frowned, thinking. “I did have friends in that league.”

“Can you keep a secret from the Vanguard?”

He snorted. “Duh.”

Edgar manifested immediately so she didn’t get to ask if he would keep a secret from the Vanguard. “Gordon!” 

“Edgar? Edgar!” Ahab bolted out of his chair to cup his hands around the Ghost. “What happened to you?”

“The Realm closed while we were getting the others. But Nisus got it open again a little while back. Ksenir and Nova are already awake. The others are… Well, we think it’s working but they’re taking more time.”

The man hit his knees hard, tears streaming down his face. “Edgar, buddy. They’re all alive?”

“We haven’t found Caris,” Edgar admitted. “But so far everyone’s improving. There’s always a chance it won’t work out, but so far it looks good.” Ahab ran a sleeve over his eyes. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Go ahead, buddy.”

“Why didn’t you take care of Lishan?”

“What could I have offered her? A washed up old Titan with no Ghost?”

“Family,” Edgar and Silla said, then glanced at each other.

The man winced and nodded. “I didn’t think about it like that. I- Cock-” he sighed. “Will you tell me where they all are?”

“I can take you there right now,” Silla offered. “But it means going back to the Dreadnaught.”

“What?” Ahab scowled.

“Oh, Gordon, it’s amazing!” Edgar spun around. “We didn’t even consider it but Nisus killed Oryx! By the Sword Logic that means that Nisus now owns that Throne World! And the Dreadnaught- There’s no Dark left in the Dreadnaught!”

The man looked between them for a time and Silla could see conflict mixing with hope. “I need to see it. See them.”

Silla held out her hand. Ahab took it. They made the several hour flight in near complete silence. Edgar would sometimes try to get Ahab’s attention but the man would only smile fondly and shake his head. Silla eventually convinced Edgar to let him have the time to grieve. The Bug docked on the Dreadnaught without fuss and she led the way down into the hangar while Bee and Edgar raced off for whatever reason. 

There were cots along one wall, four of which held the still comatose members of Win Count. Blake and Ksenir were arguing on one side while Nova and Lishan sparred in the far corner. Eris and Nisus stood over Lech with the sliver of the Traveler mounted above. 

Silla winced. Nisus was actively drawing the dark from Lech and Sauce. Silla stood next to her gangplank and waited while Ahab stopped beside her, scanning the room. When his eyes caught on Nisus, she took a deep breath. 

“The hell is he doing?” Ahab asked her, whisper soft.

“Given his years in the Throne World of Oryx and his “inheritance,” he can leech the Dark out of things and creatures,” she said, intentionally not getting into the fullness of it.

Ahab took several deep breaths and slowly his posture changed to one much more like that of a Titan. His hands fisted on his hips. Even in nothing more than a belted tunic, trousers, and soft shoes with chicken shit on them he looked more like a Guardian than Silla had ever felt. “The hell sort of bullshit are you all getting up to without me?”

The whole room froze and turned as one. Nova shrieked and bolted to him, throwing her arms around him. That broke the ice and the rest of Win Count converged on their former leader, cheering. Ksenir was openly crying. Lishan was radiant with joy. Eris was shocked. Nisus- 

Nisus finished his work on Lech, turned, and made a beeline for Silla. She watched his approach, confused. When he reached her, his arms went around her and he pulled her close in a hug. Startled and baffled, she hugged back automatically rather than choosing it.

“Thank you,” Nisus said. “Thank you.” When he drew back, there were tears on his face. “I- He- Thank you.”

“Edgar found him,” she said gently. “He’s been keeping livestock for the Farm. Loves the chickens. He’s always been a friend to me.”

Nisus gripped her shoulder and nodded. “Thank you,” he said again, firmly before turning to his fireteam.

Blake sidled over to her and leaned against her shoulder. “Which one’s that?”

“Gordon Bryson. He’s been going by Ahab at the Farm.”

“Well, he’s got a Ghost,” the woman said. 

Silla glanced at her. “Really?”

“Yeah. His Light’s too well maintained.”

“Mm.” Silla glanced back. “We’ll see how that goes. Should be good news.”

Blake hummed. “I’m getting back to work while Ksenir can’t interrupt me.”

“Have fun,” Silla said. Blinking rapidly, she headed for the medbay area. She’d keep an eye on them while the others celebrated. When she took a seat next to Lech the human rolled over on the cot and squinted at her, his Ghost moving in time with him and blinking. 

“Why’s everyone so loud?” he asked quietly. 

“Just found out Gordon’s not dead,” she offered, keeping her voice soft. “I’m Silla. Want me to get one of the Warlocks to give you a Rift?”

“Nah,” he said, pushing himself upright. “Whoa.” 

Silla got an arm around him before he could tumble off the cot. “Need a Rift or Well over here,” she called without taking her eyes off him. 

“Now, now,” he said. “I’m fine, just a bit-” Lech was flattened to the cot as Silla released him to Nova’s tackle. “Less fine now,” his complaint was muffled in Nova’s coat.

Lishan’s Well licked at Silla’s heels as she moved away to give them space to greet him. Eris and Nisus fussed about scans and rest. Nova refused to let go and Lishan had taken hold of Lech’s hand. Ksenir and Ahab were babbling happily at each other. Silla tilted her head and watched, refusing to show emotion. 

Bee appeared at her shoulder and chirped at her gently. _Why don’t we go see Martellus?_

_If I do anything it will be to go run Squall into the ground._

_Okay, let’s do that. You don’t have to stand here and hurt._

Silla turned to look at her Ghost. _I want to understand what I did wrong, Bee._

_You did nothing wrong. Lishan was holding you against them for comparison and that’s not fair. They had years and years to become a family. You had less than one and she was suffering from the Hive taint the whole time. Now. Either leave, or spend time with Emma._

Obediently, Silla went to where Blake was working over a table scattered with datapads and schematics. “So why’s Ksenir always interrupting you?” 

“You mean like you are now?” Blake asked without looking up. Silla leaned a hip against the table and waited. “She was the builder and tinkerer for Win Count and wants to horn in on my work,” Blake sighed.

“Maybe she’s bored,” Bee offered. “Give her her own projects.”

“I’m already managing Blaise. Do I have to manage them all?”

“Ahab might take over managing Win Count,” Silla mused. “But he really loves his chickens. We may need to come up with a plan for them all.”

“You’re a fireteam gall; can’t you handle it?” Blake batted her eyelashes at Silla in a way that would usually work. 

Silla sighed. “I’d really prefer not to.”

Blake’s eyebrows went up. “Does everyone have to have drama right now? We have a job to do.”

“And I’m going to do it,” Silla said. “It will be easier on both me and the others if I’m not the one managing all the extras.”

“Sure,” Blake frowned, looking at Silla carefully. “You should know, she is convinced you have it out for her. Blaise has already tried addressing it twice.”

Silla felt her face tighten and she looked at the table for a moment. “Do you think I should leave? Stop causing conflict?”

The Warlock groaned. “Do not do this to me. I need you to be smart.”

“What am I missing, then? I know I’m too close to the situation-”

“You are taking responsibility for every one of her actions and opinions when she’s the only one being an idiot and no one else thinks it’s your fault. Stop it. Just because you have a crush-” Silla’s eyes came up in a glare and she saw Blake fight not to hesitate. “You don’t need to excuse or defend every one of her actions. Stop. It. She doesn’t matter. If it comes down to having you or her, I’m pulling for you. She is not someone I want on the team to fight Xol. You are. Provided you get over this.”

Silla turned and looked at the Win Count family: their closeness, their joy. “Okay,” she said quietly, bringing her attention back to Blake. “Keep calling me on it when I need it.”

“Oh, can do,” Blake agreed eagerly. Silla snorted. “Help me figure out what we’re going to do about the fireteam.”

“Reintegration education, combat readiness tests, psych evals, training updates,” Silla rattled off easily. “That should take a month or more.”

“Thank you,” she said primly. “That will give us time to sort out a fireteam leader and maybe even a strategy for a reveal.”

“We need to have one or seven of those very soon,” Silla agreed. “They seem to share a similar… impulsiveness.”

Blake snorted. “It gets worse the more of them there are.”

“Oh no,” Silla sighed, draping herself over the work table in a faux faint. “Do you think I could convince Nisus to leave the others asleep?”

“Mm. Maybe. But you’d have to try something I don’t think you’ve done before.”

“What’s that?” Silla’s voice was muffled against the surface of the table.

“Seduction,” Blake enunciated each syllable deliberately, smirking.

Lifting her head, Silla leveled another glare at her friend. “He’s already asked me once if I’d slept with his daughter. It’s not going to happen.”

Blake laughed, delighted. “That’s amazing. He is such an asshole.”

“You’re one to talk.”

“It takes one to know one. Honestly, Faer, you should know my type by now.”

“I really don’t. But I could find out: you can teach me seduction.” Silla grinned, not fully teasing.

Blake grimaced. “Even I don’t want to be a rebound fling, Faer.”

“Hey, that’s not what I-”

“I know,” she sighed, waving one hand while she pinched the bridge of her nose with the other. “I’m stressed too, okay?”

“So I shouldn’t make jokes about helping you relax?”

“Faer, what the hell are you doing?” Emma asked, exasperated. Her voice slid into an accent more and more like Drifter’s the more stressed she got. 

“I’m saying that we’re both physically attractive to each other and we could enjoy that if we wanted to.”

“Well fuck,” Emma said slowly, peering at Silla. 

“Look-”

“You are absolutely lovely when you’re blushing; how did I not know this?” Silla stopped trying to make excuses and just waited. “You’re not going to get emotions involved?” Emma asked.

“Nah. I might get more fond of you than I am now but that’s honestly not hard.”

“Harsh,” Emma said, voice approving. “I like it.”

“I _am trying_ ,” Silla pointed out.

“Mm,” Emma hummed. While she was tapping one long finger on her chin, making bedroom eyes at Silla as she considered, Nisus bounded over.

“We’re going to have a party, come on- Faer, what are you doing on the table?”

“Seducing your boss,” Silla said, not taking her eyes off Emma. 

Nisus guffawed and then looked at Emma’s face. His jaw dropped. “Wow,” he looked back at Silla and presented her with an impressed expression and two thumbs up. “Congratulations. Enjoy. I can pop you into the Throne World if you want to make use of the-”

“Go away, Blaise,” Emma commanded without looking at him.

“But of course, Ms. Blake,” he said, laughing as he backed away.

“I want you on my ship in something that isn’t armor in twenty minutes, Silla Faer.”

“Yes ma’am,” Silla said, pushing herself off the table and strolling as casually as she could manage back to her own ship and ignoring Bee’s snickering.


	17. Absolution

“I need you to look me in the eye and tell me you know what you’re doing,” Gordon said and Nisus turned to find him standing near the Dreadnaught’s throne. Nisus himself stood at one of the viewports overlooking the rings of Saturn. “Tell me this isn’t some wild goose chase.”

Nisus watched his oldest surviving friend cross the room. “It isn’t a wild good chase,” he said with some humor. He was careful to meet Gordon’s eyes. “I can’t promise that I have a perfect understanding of what I’m doing, but I believe I know enough.”

Gordon studied him intently. “Enough for what?”

“To avoid taking anyone else with me if I’m wrong,” Nisus said mildly. 

“And what, exactly, is worth all of these risks, then?”

“I intend to destroy the rest of the Hive’s gods. Hunt the lesser Hive to extinction when that’s done.”

Gordon stared at him, mouth open. “You gotta be kidding me! After what Oryx did to us? You think you can take on his gods?”

“From the Throne I watched a single Guardian stand against Xol, one of those gods. She won. By herself. His physical form is dead and I know where his soul is hiding. I have a team preparing to face him. I know we can take him.”

“Fuck, Ni’,” Gordon breathed. “You know you could just uhh, get a dog and settle down, right?”

“I don’t think I could,” he sighed. He’d forgotten how easy Gordon could make things seem. How safe. “I wish I could, you know. Find some land I like, build a house nice enough Lishan would tolerate it, maybe try and pick up some hobbies. Find someone who doesn’t mind crazy, never pick up a gun again.” He’d also forgotten how Gordon always got the truth out of him. “But I- I spent all of this time alone in that box with the corpses of my best friends and the Tablets of Ruin and I don’t think I would survive if I didn’t have an enemy to point myself at.”

Gordon stepped forward and wrapped Nisus in a hug and didn’t let go. It was only then that Nisus realized that there were tears on his face. 

“I don’t know what else to do,” Nisus admitted, resting his head on Gordon’s shoulder. “I don’t know that I would stop even if I really wanted to. There’s a chance to do this and I really do think it will work. I don’t think I could ever walk away from that.”

“Yeah,” Gordon muttered. “You’ve always been too damn noble and too damn stupid to walk away.”

“I never expected to get any of you back,” Nisus’ voice cracked. “I thought I’d be going to war alone with nothing but vengeance to get but then Blake turned up with actual barrels of orbs of Light and- And you showed up and now it’s not vengeance and I’m thinking a little clearer but I still think I need to do this.”

“Okay. Okay, buddy,” Gordon patted his back. “I’m not gonna tell you to stop.”

Nisus slumped against him in relief. Almost done. “But you can- Gordon, take them all with you.”

“Win Count? You think any of us are going to be willing to let any of us out of our sight any time soon?” he asked sharply.

“I don’t want them to-”

“Shut up a minute,” Gordon shook him a little. “None of them are kids anymore; not after what we’ve seen and done. Every one of them can choose for themselves and you will let them. Damn it, Nisus. Don’t get so wrapped up in how you lost us all that you forget that we lost you too. None of us want to lose any of us again, you hear me?”

“I missed you so much,” Nisus confessed in a torrent. “When no one had seen you in so long I-”

“Breathe, buddy,” Gordon said, gentle but firm. “I know, okay? Surviving all of you and then losing Caris almost killed me and I didn’t have to see anyone’s corpses every single day. I know. I’ve got you.”

Nisus breathed, and thought perhaps he might know what it was to be absolved.


	18. Elemental

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> query: should i list the OCs in the character tags?

By the time Silla made it back to Nessus Sly had worked a miracle. Not only were he and Katya getting along well, Katya was back in the swing of things and maybe even having fun while she was at it. His evidence: Katya now regularly bullied the twins into mobility practice where she would chase them with Thundercrash. As for the twins, Shry was using Solar skills with less flinching and less getting overwhelmed and Sly was actually using the Light! 

“Show me,” Silla tugged on Sly’s arm. “I wanna see!”

Slàine rolled his eyes and shoved her affectionately. “I need my arms free to do that, Silly Silla.”

Because he had been taught by Shry and Silla, and had very little exposure to Hunters that were not Silla, Sly had comparatively few preconceived notions about what his Light would do. His first try had produced an Arc knife. While she’d been able to guess at how to abandon some of her own assumptions after studying his Arc knife, Silla had only ever managed to turn her Golden Gun to Void. She wanted more.

Freed, a laughing Sly scaled the nearest stone pillar and scanned the far side of the canyon. “Okay. That will do. There’s some Fallen something over there. Olly, could you highlight the thing for Bee to show Silla?”

Cresting the pillar, Silla paused to look at Sly. “That’s genius. If we patched something like that into HUD targeting-”

“You mean you don’t have something like that?” he was surprised. “My Wing had- Well. I guess helmets are usually less high tech than starfighters.”

“Mostly, yeah. Okay, okay.” She scoped in on the target with her rifle. “I can see the target. That’s a Captain. If you can, go slow enough that I can see your Light before you initiate contact.”

“Can do,” Sly said and Light began to move. First, a band of Void Light formed across the upper half of his face. Second, a Void-made rifle came into being. Once he was sure she had seen it, he shouldered the rifle but did not sight down it. Instead, he simply considered the Captain through the Light HUD and pulled the trigger. In her scope, Silla saw the Captain slump.

“Does the HUD mimic your old piloting interface?” she asked, delighted. She picked off the panicking dregs.

“Yeah,” he admitted, a bit sheepish. “It really bothered me when you all wouldn’t tell me anything but I think I get it now.”

“You’re welcome,” she cheered. “Now, tell me about your Arc and Solar?”

“That’s the thing,” Sly shrugged, grinning. “It’s the same in all of them.”

“No,” Silla breathed, staring at him. “Really?”

“Yeah. Katya’s not thrilled; she keeps going on about the need for versatility. I’m still rummaging around to see what I can do. I think I’m going to try and work up more than three though.”

Silla laughed. “This is amazing. You should definitely go for more than three. When you’re ready, do the HUD and gun again in another element. Getting a look at that might help me figure this out.”

One sparrow ride later, they had line of sight on a group of Vex. Sly summoned the Light in Arc this time and blasted the Minotaur while Silla dropped the Goblins. Afterward, Silla rapidly cycled through ideas and theories while they looked for another vantage point.

“Do you think you could summon the HUD or the gun without the other?” she asked.

“No clue,” Sly said, stopping his sparrow and pointing down into a crevice. Another group of Fallen were huddled under an outcropping. 

“Try for just the HUD,” Silla suggested, keeping her seat while she scoped the Fallen.

“You know,” Sly said conversationally. “Snipers used to have an entire team. The gunman, the spotter, and sometimes a flanker or two. Flankers managed fields of view that the sniper or spotter couldn’t while engaged, and secured the perimeter. Spotters would observe and detect potential targets and atmospheric conditions, ran communications, and directed artillery fire and air support. They used the creatively named spotting scope, rangefinders, and other specialized optics. Think this counts?”

Silla looked up to find his face covered in an orange visor, no gun in his hands. “I don’t know. You haven’t told me what it does.”

“I’ll show you the whole HUD when you get me that ship you promised,” he teased.

“You know full well how rare they were,” she said, not taking the bait. “As soon as my contacts find something, I’ll be there.”

“Your contacts,” he laughed. “Listen to yourself! You sound like some sort of spy.”

“We have those too,” she said. “Can you swing a gun in a different element from the HUD?”

Sly tilted his head, thinking, then flexed his hands. The rifle appeared in purple. “I did it!” he grinned.

“Nope. HUD went purple,” Silla frowned, thinking, and spun a Solar knife around her fingers. “I assume there are differences between the different HUD elements?” 

“A few things?” he shrugged. “I haven’t sat down and really mapped it all out yet. This only started working last week.”

“Have you tried getting more than one shot with the gun?” 

“Silla, please tell me that you know that one plus zero equals one,” Sly muttered, putting the Void round into a Fallen Vandal’s head. 

“Ah, but you see, sometimes zero becomes something else,” she announced. “Really, though. Light isn’t physical. Don’t expect it to work as if it were bound to cause and effect. If you train yourself to carry more Light reserves and then put more Light into whatever you make you’ll get more out of it. Sometimes it’s rounds, sometimes it’s duration. Titans get hammers.”

Sly twitched. “I did not need that image.”

“Better get over it,” she said, not without sympathy. “Katya’s got an excellent arm.”

“Yeah, she does,” he sighed. Silla looked up, he realized what he’d said, and flushed.

“Oh boy,” she said, starting to grin.

“Nope,” Slàine said immediately. “No, no. Do not.”

“Right,” she drew out the vowel. “Shall I just, uh, never?”

“Please.”

“I’ll think about it,” Silla decided. Sly dropped his head in his hands, moaning. “So,” she dragged out the word. “Shry’s using Solar and not turning into the grumpiest grump ever to grump?”

“I don’t know about that,” he said, fully in support of the change of topic. “But she’s not getting panic attacks over it as much. She still doesn’t like to do the whole fire-sword thing. She says it burns but there’s never any damage. Isaac’s wound up about it.”

“Is she still using the same gloves?” Silla frowned at her hands.

“I mean, yeah?”

“Thermal insulation.”

“You think it’s that simple?”

“No,” Silla said, calling a Spectral Blade to her hand. “I think it’s psychosomatic. She already isn’t sure Isaac can keep Solar off of her, and she knows that Ardath can’t. Have Failsafe’s frame assemble the modifications. Maybe it will be enough.”

“I think we can do a step or two beyond thermal insulation, too,” Slàine muttered to himself. “Ardath’s our chief of the drawing board. I’ll talk to him.”

“How’s Failsafe doing with more Frames?”

“Fine?” Sly shrugged. “Honestly, she’s hard for me to read. I think she likes it that way. She keeps pretending she has something to tell me and then screaming when I get close to one of her speakers.”

“Wow. That’s… weird?”

“Ardath thinks it’s hilarious so there’s no way she’s going to stop any time soon. Do you have any ear plugs? Cause she’s been talking about opera lately.”

“Yeah, actually,” she shifted and then tossed him a small container. “Bee, can you give Olly a copy of the schematics for the upgraded sensor pack that we combined with the tracker mod? The tracker mod’s stripped down to the point of not being a tracker mod, but with the two you can flag individuals and apply custom input/output settings to them. You could set up Failsafe’s input to be halved or something. 

“Or,” Bee drawled. “You could just grab noise-attenuating mods. You know, because they respond to auditory thresholds in real time.”

“Or that,” Silla agreed shamelessly. 

“You Hunters planning on coming in for lunch any time soon?” Katya’s voice came across the comms. Sly blushed the minute Silla turned an enormous grin his way.

“I don’t know,” she said breezily. “Lunch? Or a target rich environment? Might need convincing.”

“Well, Failsafe gave us a recipe for this thing called stroganoff and-” A number of eminently entertaining sounds fell from Slàine’s lips as he scrambled onto his sparrow.

Silla snorted. “I think that means he’s on his way and not that he’s planning on blowing us all up.”

“He always has a plan to blow us all up; it’s more a matter of keeping him entertained without the explosions or breaking the sound barrier.” Katya was entirely serious.

“Good thing you have prior experience, then. I’ll clean up these dregs and head your way.”

“See you soon.” 

The comms cut and Silla looked back down at her hands. In her left hand she held a Solar knife, and in her right she held a Spectral Blade. This was going to be fun.


	19. Alliance, part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this update brought to you by terrible weather

Mo blinked twice, looked up, down, and then turned and poured Light into his Guardian. Beren Jules fell back against the wall of the Dreadnaught’s hangar with a cry. Gordon crossed the room like he’d teleported, an arm around Jules, softly reassuring the man he loved like a son. 

Nisus watched, exhausted and slumped against Eris, grinning like a fool. He didn’t really notice when he was shepherded into a chair but when Win Count’s celebrations moved away from the med bay he did not go with them. He accepted an orb of Light from Ksenir and settled in to read over the files Emma sent him. “Ms. Faer,” he said when she approached. “How can I help?”

“Blake wants a meeting with the two of us in the Throne World. When’s a good time?”

“Now,” he pushed himself to his feet. “I always like introducing people to my Take.”

“Take?” Silla asked.

“You’ll see,” he singsonged at her. They collected Emma and he led the way into the throne room. “Open up, darling,” he called to Take. Emma strode through the portal and Silla followed without hesitating. Gratified, Nisus came in after and closed the portal. “Welcome to my Take,” he said grandly. “Come on, introduce yourself.” Take’s attention settled into the space.

Silla’s head tilted and she turned to face the Throne almost before Take arrived. “Hello, my name is Silla Faer. My Ghost is named Bee.” Take accepted their presence and vanished.

 _“What?”_ Bee gasped. “What just happened?”

“That was Take,” Nisus beamed, clapping his hands together. “It’s wonderful.”

“It would seem that as a long term cynosure of Oryx’, his Throne World developed a locus of adaptiveness that overtime achieved a subtle form of cognizance.” Emma had a helmet on for no clear reason and her voice was wrong. “Blaise Took the Throne World and affected that cognizance, thus High War’s central intelligence was redefined by his terms.” Even her posture was odd.

“Um,” Nisus began, unsure. “I actually understood that but I’m gonna go ahead and express my gratitude that you usually dumb yourself down for us. So, thanks for that.”

“You are welcome,” Emma said. “We must integrate with the Astrocyte Verse; the dilation may take a moment. Faer, tell him what we are doing.” Emma went still.

“The fuck,” Nisus muttered, turning to Silla. “The fuck?”

“No clue what’s going on with the helmet or the “astrocyte verse” thing,” Silla admitted. “I asked her earlier if it was a coincidence that the ones still not responding to Light are the EXOs. She said that the idea might be critical and that she might need what she called “the crutch” to think it through properly. She said that the two of us ought to be able to handle it and that we would need privacy. That’s all I know.”

“From my readings it appears to be affecting the functions of her-” Silla’s Ghost jerked in the air. “Edgar, did you see that?” 

“I saw… _something_ ,” he agreed. “It looked like her head evaporated.”

“Take,” Nisus barked. Take sent him an impression of safety.

“What about the rest of her bodily functions?” Silla asked Bee. “Are they impaired in any way?”

“No,” Bee said slowly. “They are still behaving as if her body is as normal, even with everything gone from the neck up.”

“Not gone,” Emma’s voice came. She didn’t move. “Dilated.”

“Dilation is a kink you two can talk about on your own time,” Nisus said, stepping forward. “Emma-”

“We are unharmed; both Emma and her Ghost. Truly. This object both is and causes an ideocosm of the self that is compatible with a Light-Mantled mind and has been shaped for efficient placement on such a mind’s encasement. While affected by the object a Light-Mantled mind is dilated from the limitations of biological matter to ideocosmic infinity. We are the convergence of Light-Mantled mind and Light-Made mind and to ourself we have applied the object for heightened efficiency of hypothesis, analysis, and deduction. Please stand by for results.”

After an incredulous silence, Nisus allowed himself to curse for a bit. When he fell silent, Silla turned to face him. “The thing that gets to me is that she called the thing a crutch earlier.”

“Do _not_ get me started, please,” he moaned, running a hand over his face. “The closest comparison I have for this is using an Oversoul as a battery.”

“Good to know that her Ghost is with her, though. Given- Well. Some of her associates. I didn’t know.” Silla mused. “Never seen it.”

“Me neither,” he admitted. “Some of her associates?”

“Weird attitudes about Ghosts,” she shrugged, hesitated, then shrugged again. “Might be a little like what Slàine said about not choosing all of this.”

“Data analysis points toward a possibility that EXO hardware design may have a higher absorption rate than purely biological forms. One might assume that this would impact a Light-Mantled EXO’s Ghost,” Emma announced.

“So they need more Light than the rest?” Silla suggested.

“Theoretically. Please stand by.” The helmet dissolved and Emma’s curls spilled out. She breathed deeply, eyes closed. “Previous experience indicates that we will remain… odd. Effects recede within three to five hours.”

“So no more people for you today,” the Hunter concluded, drawing a laugh from Nisus.

“Dear Light, woman. You could have warned us.”

“That would not have been an efficient use of time. Too many questions. Better to see. Faster route to necessary information. I would like to be alone now.” She vanished in a shower of transmat sparks. 

Nisus stared at the place she’d left, incredulous. “That’s it, then?”

“Sounds like it,” Silla said, already distracted by looking around. When he sniggered, she turned to look at him.

“Tell you what, Hunter,” he offered with a grin. “If you can open the door, it’s fair game.”

Here in his Throne Nisus could actually see her predator emerge from its rest, but Silla restrained herself. “You sure? Take, are you okay with it?”

Take projected calm acceptance into the space as Nisus stared at her. No one had yet been considerate of his Take. “Yeah,” he managed when she looked at him. “I’m sure. I’ll go tell Eris the news and see what changes need to be made. I’ll be back within two hours.”

Silla grinned, and her predator was off the leash. “I’m sure Take will lead you right to me.” Oh, Light. She’d taken it as a challenge.

“Sounds good,” he said. “Later.” Once in the Dreadnaught’s throne room, Nisus turned to Edgar. His mouth opened but no words came out.

“Yes, I know,” Edgar said, faintly patronizing. “She scares you.”

“More than Caris did,” Nisus admitted. He straightened his robes. “Right. Let’s get this done. I want my Titans back.” 

Armed with Emma’s theory, Eris and Ksenir helped him restructure the Light therapy schedule for the EXOs’ Ghosts. He, Lishan, and Ksenir layered Wells and Rifts over them for a while to jump start the process. 

“The two hour timer will complete in ten minutes,” Edgar told him. 

“We should take a break anyway,” Ksenir muttered, letting her Well dissolve. She stretched and her back popped several times.

“Now I’m scared to stand up,” Nisus muttered. He pushed himself up from the floor and both of his knees went off like guns. He staggered against Lishan. “I’m too old for this shit, Edgar.”

“Given that I am centuries older than you, I suggest you keep such commentary to yourself,” the Ghost sniped back. Ksenir laughed and Lishan smiled, laughing with her hands.

“Go on,” Ksenir shooed him away. “We can handle this.”

Back in the Throne World, Nisus took a deep breath and spread out his senses to see if he could find Silla without Take’s help. No dice. The whole place felt empty of carried Light. Frowning in concentration, he walked the halls until he found himself in the lab. After a moment’s consideration he Blinked into the archives. Silla was perched on top of the corner of a bookcase twenty feet tall, reading from the Books of Sorrow.

“The archives don’t have a door,” he blurted, surprised to find her there.

“Nope,” she said, making the P into a second syllable. Silla closed the book around one finger and looked down at him. “I asked Take to let me into your Library.” He stared, surprised again. She dropped a third of the way down the bookcase then caught herself, gently sliding the book back into its place before dropping the rest of the way to the ground. “But I did find something that I have questions about. Take, would you please?”

Take shifted around them and they were standing in one of the containment rooms he’d installed. No, he realized. This was _the_ containment room. Silla Faer was standing between him and Xol’s rifle of Whispers. That was potentially disastrous. He’d have to deal with Silla getting Take to do as she liked later.

“This room also doesn’t have a door,” he said mildly. “One might think you disregarded the rule.”

“Take is the door and the rule,” Silla said, dismissive. “This,” she pointed at the rifle and prevented him from poking at her thought process. “Is a rifle that has been Taken but whatever is in there is not Taken.”

“Xol,” Nisus said, nodding. She blinked and he realized that her eyes were producing light. “He was playing around with the Taken on Io. Shry had already rejected him so when he found Ms. Blake, he decided to try something different. I can’t tell if he meant to gain power by offering her the tribute of his kills or if the kills would empower him.”

Silla turned, looking over the rifle, and he remembered that she was a sniper. “Have you considered Taking Xol?”

“No,” he admitted. “Do you think that would be a better option?”

“A mindless but obedient Xol could be a very excellent weapon. The problem there is his reputation as the least of them,” she mused, thinking. He waited, watching the Taken glow compete with the Awoken glow. “When I compare a Taken Xol with an Ascendant Shry, though…” she sighed. “Taken Xol would be a very finite creature. Any chance of change or growth would require a very long time. Shry tends to change in bursts. To my mind, she has more potential.”

“I agree,” he offered.

“But she already struggles with her own mind,” Silla’s words were nearly voiceless. Nisus only heard them because they were within his Throne. “What if mantling Xol kills her? Destroys her mind?”

Nisus considered. “Xol could override her: destroy or absorb her soul and use her form as his own. Truly, that could be any of us, not just Shry.”

“But you wanted Shry,” Silla said, not looking away from the rifle. “You planned for Shry.”

“Wanted yes,” he agreed. “Back then I had no plan other than attack; you and Ms. Blake have changed that dramatically. The people to have committed to the fight are you, Squall, and myself. It could be any of us.”

Brow furrowing, Silla’s focus moved beyond the rifle and into the middle distance. Nisus was not aware of her thoughts, but he could see that her focus had left the room. He was surprised. He hadn’t expected her to trust him to that degree. Several minutes later, she said “It might be best to be selective about who joins you. To vet each individual to see if they would have a chance to survive a confrontation with Xol.”

“And how would we do that?”

“Blake, probably.” She ducked her head, took a deep breath, and when she looked up she was back in the present. “I’m not sure Shry wouldn’t find a way to follow us if we tried to go without her, which means that Sly and Katya will both be there. All three of them should be told, though, that whoever gets that last shot Mantles him. She may choose to pass if she hears that.”

“What if Blake were to say you should not go?”

“Then I wouldn’t,” Silla said immediately, shaking her head. “I’m not going to endanger you, any of the others, or the mission.”

“How do you think Blake will respond to an inspection of me?” he asked, curious.

“She’d approve of you going.” Her lack of hesitation soothed a number of his doubts. “So do I, for that matter,” she continued and he started.

“Even after not realizing I had mantled Oryx?” he asked, incredulous. “You saw how I fell apart.”

“That’s actually part of why I think you can handle it,” Silla turned to face him. “The discipline to never look at what you couldn’t handle thinking about for years until you were in a position to do something about it? That level of compartmentalization and endurance is exactly the sort of skill that could be the winning play in a contest of wills.”

Nisus stared at her, mouth open. “But- I-” He shook himself and took thirty seconds to center. “I would never have considered that a good thing.”

“Things like that are neither good nor bad,” she said gently. “They just exist. It’s only how you use them that has any moral meaning.”

“Okay,” he nodded, breathing deeply. Mentally, he added all of that to the pile of things he’d have to process later. “So. I’ll probably be okay. I imagine you will too. We’ll see what Shry says. You seem to think that we should consider others.”

She smiled faintly. “It’s more that I don’t think your fireteam will let you go without them.”

“Ah.” Gordon had said as much, but Nisus hadn’t really taken it to heart. “And they should be vetted as well.”

“Especially because of Win Count’s experience with Oryx,” she said, earnest. “The last thing I want is for Xol to be able to hurt any of you because of what you’ve already survived.” The very idea made Nisus nauseous. “Shry gave me all of her data from her encounters with Xol, and the records she and Isaac compiled. Xol can emanate a sort of weaponized psionic field. It paralyzed Shry instantly when he used it. I think we should only take with us people we think can stand back up and keep fighting after that sort of experience.”

“Not sure I could,” he noted. He ran his fingertips over his palm and focused on that sensation. “Really worried about taking some of the kids into that.”

“Me too,” she said.

“So,” he drew out the word while he thought. “Tell me what you think: I’ll go around Win Count individually and tell them enough that they can decide if they want to join a council of war type meeting. Attending is not a commitment to fight. Might have a pre-meeting with the ones who want to attend to bring them up to speed. Give them another chance to duck out. I’ll go talk to Shry and Squall about mantling and if they’re still in I’ll invite them to the meeting. 

“At the meeting we can go over the things we know about what Xol used to be able to do, what we think he might could do now. Then we do whatever Ms. Blake comes up with for testing mental fortitude. Whoever’s left at that point, we start defining tactics and maybe schedule drills together.”

“Excellent,” she said as soon as he was done. “I like that. Point of fact, regular conversations about willingness may be important here given that we’re fighting the Will of Thousands.”

“Yeah,” he said slowly, realizing what she meant. “Yeah, if someone comes along because they don’t want to be left out, rather than because they want Xol dead that might put them in danger.”

“Exactly,” Silla nodded.

“Think your Gentleman would join us?”

“For the war council, absolutely. I don’t know about the rest.”

Nisus nodded, thoughtful. “We can start there,” he decided. “I’d prefer to get Lehi and Reier up and about before the formal meeting though. This isn’t a fight I’m interested in leaving the Titans behind for.”

“I’m sure Katya would prefer not to be the only Titan for once,” Silla almost smiled. “Not that she doesn’t enjoy the attention.”

“Niles said she helped train you?” Nisus asked, glad to think about something else for a bit.

“She and Astrophel took us to the Tower after Bee got me up. I kept asking her questions so she ended up doing most of my early combat readiness training.”

It was refreshing to be trusted with a bit of Silla’s past, especially when Emma shared so little. “Some of the data Ms. Blake sent to me included some of Katya-7’s after-action reports to Sloane on Titan. She seems highly professional for a Guardian.”

“Don’t forget that Shry has considered her a friend for years now; Katya can absolutely enjoy a good chaotic moment here and there. But yeah, the more upfront and direct things are the more efficient she feels and she likes to feel that way.”

“I can see that,” Nisus decided. “How do you feel about getting away from this… thing?”

“Sure,” she said easily. “Can I have Bee copy your library?”

“I’m surprised you haven’t already. You did get in, after all.”

“I assumed you from the door rule that you hadn’t meant for me to get in there,” Silla confessed. “I thought that maybe copying your records would be a step too far.”

“Ms. Faer, may I say that I much prefer you as an ally?” Nisus opened a way into the archives. “Have at it, Bee.”

“Thanks!” the Ghost zoomed into the archives.

Silla rubbed a hand over the back of her neck, sheepish. “You may.” 

“Good, because it is _very_ true.”


	20. Comfort

Nisus was on an Eris-mandated break. Apparently he’d been “overextending” himself and seven hours spent flushing the Dark from Kyle and Trip was “overlong” and “excessive.” He was pretty sure Eris would still be lecturing him if Ksenir hadn’t promised to babysit him. 

Nisus had tried to get Emma to defend him. “You want me to argue with _The Eris Morn_ over something that can honestly wait? Not a chance. Go sit down and enjoy your juice and crackers like a good boy.”

The look on Eris’ face alone was worth the indignity but Nisus made sure to grumble and grouse his way through to obedience to make sure they knew he was unhappy. Fully aware that this was nowhere near him being uncooperative, Ksenir plied him with hot food and cold beer while she chatted with him about meaningless things. 

When he finished eating she tucked him into her shoulder so she could play with his hair. After so long alone, to have this again was more than he’d ever dared to wish. Full and warm from the alcohol he happily leaned into her and better days filled his mind.

Ksenir had always been adept at handling him, even before she’d really gotten used to him. Where Gordon would redirect him (usually to Lehi and therefore to battle), Ksenir would steady him. They would sit in the big old house Gordon had decided was their base, and she would tell him about her day while feeding him or combing out his hair. Even once they had races to run and Fallen to defend the house from, she kept sitting him down in a quiet place to play with his hair at the end of the day.

He’d asked her once if she thought he was just the oldest of the kids. She’d laughed and told him that if she thought that she wouldn’t be telling him all of her troubles. 

“So why do you tell me?” he’d asked.

“You listen well; I trust you; you’ve never told anyone a bit of it; and I like spending time with you,” she’d said, as if those things were easy to say and she was happy to say them.

“Not to say you’re lying, Keil, but that’s bullshit. I’m bullshit.” He hadn’t been much of a fan of himself in those days.

“We’re in Win Count; we’re all bullshit,” Ksenir had shrugged. “But I like our bullshit. I enjoy this racing league. I want to like how I spend my freetime too. I like spending time with you.” Somehow, he hadn’t ruined it by talking. They’d spend a few years together - the kindest and sweetest years of his life. 

In the end they hadn’t really broken up as such. Ksenir had found him at his desk one evening, brought him a bowl of stew, he’d thanked her without looking up, and she had walked away. And he realized that they’d been like that for a few months at that point: her taking care of him as she did her share of the chores and him taking it completely for granted. He’d eaten his stew, washed the bowl, pulled her into a hug that surprised her, and asked if she wanted a break from having a manchild.

Ksenir nudged him, bringing him back to the Dreadnaught. “Look at Gordon,” she murmured into his ear. Gordon was sitting on a bench, quietly chatting with Silla while Jules napped under the bench. The weird thing wasn’t that Gordon was relaxed, it was _how_ he was relaxed. A relaxed Gordon meant loud, boisterous, preferably with a number of the league. The Gordon that sat next to Silla was calm, quiet, self contained. “I haven’t seen him do that with anyone but her,” Ksenir added.

“I think that might be the Ahab identity he was using in the EDZ,” Nisus decided.

“He looks so happy.” Ksenir’s tone was wistful and sad.

“Yeah,” he agreed. “He does.”

“How are you coping with how few smells there are out here?” Silla asked Gordon.

“I love it,” Gordon said. “It’s been years since my hair didn’t smell like chicken shit.”

“It’s hard for me sometimes,” Silla said, thoughtful. “To go from the wilds to space again, even with people around. Too few signals, I guess. Not enough sounds or smells, everything looks similar, no breeze, the ground's too smooth. All the sameness of it drives me crazy sometimes.” By the end, her shoulders were hunched and she had shrunk into herself. 

Gordon had always been able to draw real things out of people; to watch Silla Faer submit to it was something else. Nisus wondered if Ahab made her feel safe, reminded her of home. For the first time, she looked young to his eyes.

“Easy, Hunter,” Gordon let a hand rest on her shoulder. “You got something on you?”

“What?” 

“Lots of Hunters carry something with them when they’re gonna be away from their place for a while,” he explained. “Seems to work best when there are memories attached.”

“No,” she shook her head. “I haven’t tried that.”

“Where do you want to be?”

“Cabin,” she said immediately and Gordon snorted. 

“Should have guessed. Makes sense; you built a great steading out there.”

“What would you carry?” Silla asked.

Nisus expected Gordon to say something flippant but instead he considered the question. “Well, you know. I’m an idiot so it would probably be a chicken.”

Silla smiled and it transformed her whole face. “Which? Ernie?”

“Ernie? No way, he’s the worst. I can’t stand him,” Gordon used the time to think. “Ava,” he decided and his voice was soft.

“Ava the avian,” Silla singsonged and Gordon smiled like it meant something to him. She rested her hand over Gordon’s on her shoulder. “I’ve got to update the schedule this week, and I want to go choose something from the cabin. Want me to bring her back with me?”

“Y- Would you?” Gordon’s eyes were huge. “I mean, she’ll ruin your ship.”

“The Bug has survived two blackout drunk Titans, one of whom was projectile vomiting. We can manage little Ava.” Nisus had so many questions.

“I’d really love to see her,” Gordon admitted.

“I’ll get her then. And all the stuff. Anything you want from home?”

“Gosh, uh, yeah. The big trunk, I guess.”

“Trunk, Ava, and Ava’s stuff,” Silla listed off. “Got it.”

“You’re nuts,” Gordon sniffed a little, grinning. “Doesn’t Rathna have six or twelve of your back up plans?”

“Yeah, but if we can wait to use those until later, I’d prefer it,” she shrugged. “Never using them is the ideal. Those people deserve to feel like they can count on something.”

“What are you going to grab from your place?”

“Probably I’ll mix up some dried herbs and flowers,” she shrugged. “Not sure.”

“You’ll know. Might not be your cabin, mind. But when you find a spot you want to carry with you, you’ll know.”

“Thanks, Ahab,” Silla said ever so quietly.

“Any time,” he said, easy. “I, for one, remember that you’ve never had a Hunter to learn from outside of Eris. I ain’t one either, but I helped raise a few.”

“And they’re great,” Silla told him, insistent. “Nova’s got lightning quick assessments and Lech’s the single most thorough Hunter I’ve met.”

Gordon squeezed her shoulder and shook it a little before releasing her. “Yeah, I do good work.”

She grinned and rose. “Shoot Bee a message if you think of anything else. I’ve got two half hour stops on the way to Earth. Then, I’m gonna run two errands in the City, and one in the Tower before I head to the Farm.”

“Will do. Have fun.” Gordon sprawled out across the bench, apparently ready for a nap of his own.

“A chicken?” Ksenir said, still whispering in Nisus’ ear. “Were they talking about a live chicken? That she’s bringing here?”

“That’s what I heard.”

“There’s nothing on the Dreadnaught to feed a chicken,” Ksenir hissed.

“Hey, Edgar? Tell Bee to send us anything they need made. I haven’t tried to make living things yet but I’m willing to try to make some grass or something.” Edgar headed for the work table where Silla was talking to Emma. “Better?”

“Mm. For now,” she teased. Then she turned somber. “She knows more about him than we do, now.”

“Not more, different,” he countered. “She has more recent information that’s about what he’s like in a different context from the one we shared with him.”

“And you?” Ksenir asked. “Who knows the more recent you?”

“Edgar,” Nisus said immediately. “Definitely Edgar.”


	21. Defining Terms

Silla transmatted in with Nisus Blaise and Shry felt her eyebrows go up. Slàine was closest. He immediately tackled Silla off her feet, cheering the whole way. Nisus stepped out of the way, expression amused when he glanced around. 

“Is that a common greeting? Should I brace myself?”

“No, tackles are usually reserved for idle Hunters,” Katya said, droll. Silla was already sitting on top of Sly, visibly exasperated.

“Ah!” Nisus’ expression cleared. “That I am more familiar with.”

“Stop it,” Silla hissed, loud barely enough that the others could hear. “Stop it. I listened. I did what you said. You were right. Stop waiting for me to be dumb; it’s out of my system.”

Nisus frowned and walked to the Hunters. “Did he really call you dumb?” he asked Silla. Shry and Katya shared a glance.

She glanced up, surprised. “No. That was me.”

“May I remind you, again, that your concern was warranted?” He seemed irritated.

“Okay?” Silla was obviously unsure how to handle this.

“Good. Next item,” Nisus said, turning to face Shry and Katya. “Thank you for meeting with us.”

“Sure,” Shry shrugged. “What’s up?”

“There’re a few layers to it,” Silla said, pulling Slàine to his feet. “Want to sit down?”

“This way,” Katya said, leading the way to the structure they had put up in front of Failsafe’s core. They’d set up a cookstove, table, and improvised chairs inside. One of Failsafe’s frames arrived with an extra chair just after they did. Once everyone was settled, Katya turned to Silla and Nisus. “Ready?”

They glanced at each other, and Shry was surprised to watch unspoken communication pass between them. Clearly Silla had not only lost her resistance to the Warlock but had been spending time with him. “How familiar are you with how the Sword Logic affects a defeat scenario with such creatures as Oryx and Xol?”

“Not!” Sly chirped. Katya shrugged.

“Outside of my own experience, not very,” Shry admitted. “I haven’t spent much time looking at the Sword Logic.”

“Ah,” Nisus’ face contorted. Shry thought he looked strained. 

Silla leaned forward. “Mantling?”

Shry considered. “Is that the principle where a lower ranking individual could challenge a higher ranking one and take their position if they won?”

“Close,” she said. “It’s the part that happens after: where whoever wins gains the power and sometimes responsibilities of the defeated individual.”

“The word is quite old,” Nisus added. “Originally it carried the idea of a blanket, or some other warm layer that could be draped across a person. “Conferred a mantle of nobility” is a phrase I read once.”

Shry frowned, about to say something when Katya began to shake her head. “Damn,” the EXO muttered. 

“Yeah,” Silla grimaced.

Shry looked back and forth between them. “Feeling slow just now,” she said slowly. 

“You don’t have to be Hive to participate in the Sword Logic,” Ardath said, standing by the stove. “Meaning if you’d killed Xol in his fullness back on Mars, you would have mantled his place. You would have Ascended.”

“What does ascend mean?” Sly asked.

“Nothing precise,” Nisus said. “Here, it means to pass beyond typical caps and ceilings. Xol’s power allows him a Throne World or something like one within the Ascendant Realm. The Ascendant Realm is another… Another reality that sits alongside ours. Beings who can control a space there cannot be destroyed without being killed in their place of power.”

“Which is what we’re going to do,” Katya continued. “We’re going to kill Xol where he lives.”

“We mean this as an opportunity to back out,” Nisus said, directly. “Whoever strikes the killing blow will not only have to contend with being tied to the Ascendant Realm, they will also more than likely have to face Xol in a contest of wills.”

“Did you have a contest of wills with Oryx after he died?” Sly asked. 

“Oh,” Shry twitched and turned to Nisus. “You-”

Nisus made a face. “Yeah. But I,” he waved a hand in Silla’s direction. “Only figured it out when Mister Gentleman said something about it, so very recently.”

Sly snorted. “Mister Gentleman.”

“Blake’s always called him that,” Silla explained. Sly laughed. 

“To answer your question,” Nisus looked at Slàine. “I don’t know if I had a contest of wills with Oryx. I don’t remember one. I was in a great deal of distress at the time, of course, so perhaps I simply attributed any struggle to that. I have not slowly morphed into a mental clone of Oryx, though, so all is well.”

“We’re concerned about a contest of wills because it’s Xol we’re talking about,” Silla explained. “According to what I’ve read he was supposed to be the least of the worms, and more than likely they are the source of the Hive’s mindset on strength; we simply do not know.”

“What has the Oryx-thing changed for you?” Sly asked in the quiet of Shry trying to think past her rising panic.

“Not sure I’ve found all of the bits,” Nisus admitted. “Obvious things: throne world, stronger, some different kinds of senses, the whole thing with Dark manipulation, the fact that I could read the Tablets probably.”

“And the Taken?” Katya asked, gaze steady. 

“And the Taken,” Nisus agreed.

“We don’t know how far that goes,” Silla countered. “He can Take for himself. We haven’t turned him loose near already Taken forces, so we don’t know how that goes.” Nisus nodded thoughtfully, apparently not having considered that.

“Maybe give us a minute?” Ardath suggested. 

“Of course,” Nisus said, rising. He and Silla stepped out of the shelter, Astrophel darting after. Shry was sure he needed to reassure himself that Silla had everything under control. But Shry didn’t think this was a situation that could be under control.

“Come here,” Katya’s voice drew her attention. The Titan pulled Shry to her feet and then settled her on a bench next to Slàine and Katya sat next to Shry. The bench wasn’t quite big enough for all three of them, so they were both pressed against her, Slàine’s arm slung around her waist. Isaac tucked himself against her collarbone. Ardath grabbed a chair and sat facing her, close enough that their knees bumped. Failsafe’s fame moved to stand in the entry to the shelter but still in Shry’s line of sight.

“I know I don’t really know enough to comment,” Sly said, voice quiet but conversational. “So I nominate Ardath to talk.”

“Oh,” the EXO said. “I- I don’t like it. I understand that it is the only way to actually kill Xol, but would it be so bad to just… leave it where it is? They seem to have it well contained.”

“Valid,” Sly nodded. “And we could inspect those containments and offer suggestions.”

“The issue is that nearly all containment methods I can guess that they used often weaken or are destroyed when the one who created them dies,” Katya sighed. “Lightbearers can live for a long time, but it’s not that common to meet one centuries old either. Add to that the ways in which a Lightbearer can die frequently and repeatedly and you further complicate the matter of Light-based restraints.”

Sly tilted his head and leaned it against Shry’s. “You think it’s likely that Nisus will get himself killed?” 

“I think we can’t ignore the possibility,” Katya said. “I’ve looked at Win Count’s Vanguard records. They were incredibly inconsistent most of the time. Things started to tighten up and gel after they handled the Black Garden. Before that, they honestly hadn’t done much as a Vanguard fireteam. Supposedly they killed a lot of Fallen. After the Garden they lose four to Crota, help the Awoken during the rebellion, and then Oryx showed up. In other words, the stats don’t fill me with confidence,” she said.

“May I read these records?” Isaac asked. 

“I’ll have Astrophel upload them to the network,” Katya agreed. “I haven’t gone over their individual records yet, but that’s there too.”

“How did you get all of that?” Ardath asked.

“I called in a debt,” Katya shrugged. “All legal, promise.”

“So, I watched the videos from the Mars events,” Slàine said. “And maybe this is my newbie speaking but, terrible as it was, Shry did it all by herself. Add us, Silla, Nisus, maybe one or two from his people, and I’m not sure why we’re worried about anything other than the mantling thing.”

Shry had a suspicion but she also doubted the suspicion too much to voice it. Instead, she leaned against him a bit. “Because this will be a Xol with a potentially very different set of skills and abilities.” She was pleased her voice was steady. “On Mars, Xol had the limitations of a physical body. This isn’t a worm bigger than a train. This is a bodiless paracausal creature. Nisus said that Xol was “playing” with Taken on Io before he was contained; if he could Take when he was on Mars he never did. 

“All of the Hive’s gods seem to have been able to commune directly with the Dark. They were extraordinarily old even before they began the Hive. Already dangerous enough to have been caught and a trap and held there by an agent of the Traveler. The way they designed their relationship with the Hive meant that each of them regularly or continuously gained power from the Hive. As the god who allowed necromancy among his followers, I don’t doubt that Xol had a plan in place to ensure that death only strengthened him.”

“Well fuck,” Slàine muttered.

“We’d have an Ascendant of our own with us,” Katya noted. “Silla’s offered to bring in Martellus. And Sly’s right: add up the Guardians involved and we’re looking at twelve or so, with the potential of bringing in more. It’s not actually all that foolhardy an idea. We already knew all of this. The question is whether the issue of mantling is too much for us.”

There was a long silence until Ardath gently touched her knee. “They’re offering an out. Do you want it?”

“Me?” Shry started. “Isn’t that a team choice?”

“I’ll sleep easy either way,” Katya shrugged. “Not really afraid of the idea of ascending. I want to punch the thing in the eye because it hurt you; if it would hurt you more to go after it, then I’m okay with sitting the fight out.”

“And I agree with that,” Slàine said.

Shry looked around at them all. “Isaac?”

Isaac rose from her shoulder and drifted back enough that he could face her without forcing her to go crosseyed. “Edgar is unharmed and able to interact with Nisus. I am not concerned for myself. My concern is this,” he paused briefly. “They intend to do this with or without our assistance. Would you be able to let them go without you?”

No. She knew it immediately. She was more okay with figuring out how to be Ascendant than she was with letting someone finish this fight without her. That was a blow in itself, but it was better to recognize it now than when it became urgent. Shry shook her head no and Sly pulled her tighter against him.

“Okay,” Katya said without judgment. “Thanks for going through all of that with us. Do you want a minute before we bring them back?”

“They’re okay,” Shry decided. Failsafe’s frame stepped away from the shelter but shortly returned with Silla and Nisus. Silla’s eyes ran over them, all pressed together, and both sadness and relief filtered across her face. Astrophel began to pace the walls of the shelter while their visitors sat down. 

“Well,” Nisus smiled at them. “Is Squall in or out?”

“In,” Katya said. “But we need to know who’s going with us and the chance to train with them.”

“Done,” Nisus said immediately. “You’re our first stop in getting confirmation with the added information. We’ll update you as we know more.”

“We need to compare information,” Shry managed. “I’ve never been to the Dreadnaught. All I have is the Worlds’ Grave, the Cryptoglyph, and translations of the Books of Sorrow.”

“And what you got on Xol on Mars,” Silla pointed out. Shry nodded.

“You’re welcome to my archives, of course,” Nisus said. “You may visit if you’d like, or I can get you a full data transfer.”

“You have a base still intact somewhere?” Katya was surprised.

“No idea. The archives are in the Throne World,” he explained. “Furthermore, I’m currently based out of the Dreadnaught with Win Count and Eris. You’re welcome to join us. There is more than enough room.”

“Oryx’ throne world?” Ardath started.

“Oh no,” Nisus shook his head. “It’s mine now. No Hive goo or Taken Blight anywhere.”

“It’s not Dark either,” Silla pointed out. “Bee and I were both fine the whole time we were in the Throne World.”

“You already mastered it?” Shry’s voice came out higher than usual.

“I cheated to do so, but yes.”

She could feel her neck soften. “Okay, yeah. I want to see this. Let’s get it on the schedule.”

Nisus glanced around the shelter. “I can have us in the Throne World more or less immediately. I’d want to leave the portal open, I’m afraid. I don’t have any practice aiming a portal from the Throne World to anywhere other than the Dreadnaught yet.”

“The only secure place we could put the portal would be in Failsafe’s core and I’m not willing to do that until I have a great deal of information on the portals and how they affect the world around them,” Shry said.

“Ah, of course,” Nisus nodded. “Those are not studies we have done as yet.”

“Bee has our schedule. Ardath?”

The EXO produced a datapad immediately. “Let’s do this, Bee.”


End file.
